The Otter, The Doe, and the Time Turner
by Vitrikor
Summary: A freak accident with a time turner sends a most distraught sixth year Hermione Granger to the year 1976, with most unexpected consequences. Canon to mid-HBP  from Hermione's perspective , to beginning of Snape's sixth year.
1. Enter Severus

**Author Note: Obviously this is a work in progress. An idea I've had in some form or another in my head for several months now, but finally got around to writing. The description being as limited character-wise as it is, I couldn't really give an adequate description of what I had in mind, so here goes:**

**Essentially, the story begins from two perspectives. Firstly, Severus in 1976, just about to enter his Sixth Year at Hogwarts. Painfully aware of how he'd ruined the one and only friendship that truly mattered to him. Secondly, Hermione in 1996, midway through the Half-Blood Prince, when she too - though perhaps not to Snape's extreme, had quite an anguished relationship with her own supposed friends deriving from Ron's dating of Lavender Brown. In an act of rage, trying to vent from the stress, she ends up breaking a time turner, which releases all its magic at once, effectively sending her back in time slightly over twenty years to August 31st, 1976. The day before term was to begin. She'd explained herself to Dumbledore, who seemed to believe her, but said that all he could do was write to the Ministry and see if they knew of some means of sending her back, and that in the interim, he'd make arrangements for her to study at Hogwarts in her same House and Year, under the pretext of being a transfer student. And shortly thereafter, Severus and Hermione run into one another - obviously not under the best of terms all things considered, and the plot develops from there.**

**The first chapter is told from Severus's point of view, the second from Hermione's, most subsequent chapters will involve both. **

**This is my first real attempt at a fanfiction of any serious length, so if anyone would be willing to give constructive criticism, that would be AMAZING. **

**(Also, a huge shoutout of thanks to anyone I have / am in the process of roleplaying this concept with. Not using anyone's posts but my own as material in this, but I still will give credit when and where it's due throughout the course of things. )**

_September 1__st__, 1976_

Black eyes gazed at the window, looking neither at nor through it. Cold, impassionate, indifferent to the English countryside moving by outside under the mid-day sun. A sight that to most onboard the Hogwarts express would only serve as a catalyst for their exhilaration at seeing their friends once more and eager anticipation at arriving at the castle for yet another term. But to Severus the sun was simply annoyingly harsh and bright, the landscape before him unpalatable to the eyes.

The hateful summer was finally over. He was finally free of Spinner's End, free of his father for nearly another year. But even that didn't matter. Nothing mattered now.

Less than half an hour ago – though it already felt a century – his one last chance, his one remaining hope had failed him.

All summer, left alone with only that odious muggle for company, over and over again it'd played over in his mind. The one incredibly stupid, vile word he'd said. The one word that had ruined everything, all that mattered in the world. He'd tried his best to immerse his mind otherwise, in studies, but as day after day passed without Lily's presence at his side, it had grown more and more unbearable.

Sometimes the torment was so great, at the dead of night he would make his way out to the playground where the first met. Hoping beyond all rational hope that she'd be there again. But it was nevermore to be.

Several nights at least the moon and lonely swingset paid witness to the tears that Severus was too proud to show to any living soul, when he simply couldn't endure it any longer. Tears that even now dared not come, even though all the beauty and worth in the world had been shattered and died. He was, in this moment, too dead inside even for that. Soullessly staring out the window, looking but unseeing.

It'd been his one last hope. All that had kept him going over the hideous summer. He would see Lily on the First of September, on the platform for the Hogwarts Express. His one last chance before they were off and she was with her poisonous Gryffindor friends forever. He'd put more thought into it, he was more terrified of it, even than in his first approach of her seven years before at that bloody playground.

It would work, it would have to work he'd told himself, tried to convince himself. Surely the summer had been as unbearable for Lily as it'd been for him, separated like this. Surely she'd realized her terrible mistake by now in leaving him, just as he'd long realized his own terrible mistake in ever speaking that horrible word. He'd go to her, they'd find a compartment together, away from anyone's eyes. She'd see how truly sorry he was, how much it'd eaten him up inside, how he'd never think of hurting her again. And she'd finally forgive him, and with a smile and a kind sparkle in those beautiful emerald eyes, all would be perfect again in the world.

But such was never to be. With a heart beating so fast he nearly thought he'd faint, Severus had made his way to the platform 9¾ at 10:45. As early as was possible for him. Hoping in arriving early to catch Lily as she arrived. Express his deepest contrition for his crimes against her, beg for her forgiveness.

When she'd finally arrived, it was 10:55; most everyone was already onboard. But Severus was simply standing there, almost a statue, watching, waiting for her. Lily had three Gryffindor girls by her side – almost as if she'd planned it that way to ruin any chance he had of approaching her. But she was too important, his love was too strong to let even such a social barrier stand in his way. He wanted to run to her, fall down and cry just at the sight of her. But instead took the slightly more dignified path of walking over slowly, Lily seemingly paying him no heed, her concentration on the rather happy conversation she seemed to be having with her friends.

The words released like a weight from his mouth as he approached her. "Lily…" he'd said, hanging his head slightly. "I'm sorry… Can I please just talk to you for a moment…"

Yet instead of her emerald eyes meeting black as so many times before, she didn't even turn to acknowledge him. Instead speaking rather crossly to her friends, as if suddenly in a rush. "Come on; let's go find seats on the train before they're all taken."

And with that she was off. The waves of brilliant red hair fading off as she'd marched away. It was then and there he knew. He'd lost her, the one person in this otherwise worthless world that he actually cared about. He could simply stand there, almost as if hit by "stupefy", watching helplessly as she walked away to leave. He wanted to run to her to beg for another chance, but he couldn't even move himself to do that much. It was over. For good. Forever. And he knew it.

He didn't even remember how he'd gotten onto the damned train. It didn't matter. Somehow he'd managed to find an empty compartment and sit down in it. Everything had gone so terribly, terribly wrong. So far removed from the now dead glimmer of hope he'd held for this day.

"Severus!" the sound, the greeting, a pleasant tone that seemed so alien filled the air. It startled him, almost like another shock to the body. Whipping his head around, his fingers quickly working to move the dark strands of hair out of his eyes, Severus saw that Avery, Rosier, Wilkes, and Mulciber – his dorm mates from Hogwarts had entered the compartment. Avery had evidently been the one to speak; it'd taken Severus's mind a few seconds to even process that.

Thankfully at least a stoic expression was fairly ubiquitous for him, so he didn't really look anything but normal to them. For the better; he could only imagine how much worse things would be if they knew the thoughts going through his head right now.

"Afternoon," Severus replied with a curt nod as the other sat down, closing the door behind them.

"So, did you hear the news?" Wilkes exclaimed excitedly, nearly the instant the door slammed closed, rendering the compartment more or less soundproof.

"What are you on about…?"

"I mean, you _have _been keeping up with the Prophet, right?"

"No…" Severus said, in a tone perhaps more bitter than even he had intended. "I don't exactly get the _Prophet _over the summer, now do I?"

"Oh… right…" Wilkes huffed, looking awkwardly for a second. Though Wilkes was generally quite a brigand and bully around the school, by this point, any Slytherin with any sense knew not to cross Severus. The latter was already by this point something of a favorite and effective protégé of Lucius, a man with connections to the Dark Lord himself. In the rigid, power-based hierarchy of the Slytherin House, to go against Severus was almost tantamount to questioning Lucius's judgment, which in turn was almost tantamount to questioning the Dark Lord himself. A prospect that kept even the most dull-witted of Slytherin brutes well in line. Severus's cold black stare was all Wilkes needed to know he'd crossed a line that he had no right to cross.

Severus's blood purity, or lack thereof, was something that he, as a Slytherin and aspiring Death Eater, was quite self-conscious of. He absolutely despised the thought that while the rest of those sitting before him had been off at their family manors all summer, he'd been cooped up in some dingy muggle house. And he didn't need them to drive the point in any further. One of the many unspoken rules of the Slytherin House – make no mention of Snape's background. Most of the younger Slytherins didn't even know, and just assumed him to be a pureblood like most of the others. So much the better really as far as Severus was concerned.

"Anyway…" Rosier quickly cut in, after the moment or so where the three others had shot sharp glance of their own at Wilkes, "The Dark Lord's on the move again." He said in a hushed, yet excited tone. "And he's dealt with some of the muggle-lovers in the Ministry over the summer." A rather dark grin appeared his face as he spoke. "Definitely good news in itself… But here's the interesting bit. Well, somehow, someone – one of the Death Eaters I guess – sent a message to the Ministry. That, if they don't replace the deads' offices with those with a more … enlightened view of magic; well, he'll just kill them again and again until the Ministry puts someone worthwhile there. And… guess what…?" His eyes widened as if queuing for the punchline of some sadistic joke.

"Every single person they hired in their places: Pureblooded wizard or witch. One or two possible blood traitors among their lot but… The Ministry caved. And that's what's important. They know we're winning now. They're scared. Soon enough the Dark Lord will be rid of all these worthless rotters altogether."

The four other Slytherins were almost beaming at the telling; even Wilkes had fully regained himself enough to do so. And normally Severus would find it fascinating news, a glorious confirmation of the wisdom of his choice to ally himself with the Death Eaters – the winning faction. But he simply couldn't bring himself to care all that much. Nothing seemed to matter anymore, not even this. For a second he was worried almost that it would show.

But he quickly covered for himself, posing it as concern rather than distraction. "That's excellent." He replied nodding once. "But there has to be caution. There's always retribution to these things. If these new Ministry employees are really ours, the traitors out there might try and move against them, if they haven't begun planning that way already. And if those standing up for the Dark Lord like this are stricken down, it might set a bad precedent. Make others more wary of doing so again. Though…" he said with a bit of a thoughtful pause. "I'm more than confident the Dark Lord already planned for any such eventualities. They should be quite fine I think. Quite fine. Thanks for the news, Rose." He even added a rare, seemingly sincere smile, as if to affirm to the others that they'd done well.

The rest of the ride to Hogwarts had been rather uneventful. They were already nearly there as the topic of the Ministry's politics grew old, replaced quickly by some rather mundane small talk about what petty annoyances they could cause for the hated Gryffindors. Well, on that at least, they more than saw eye to eye for the moment.

For a moment, it was almost like every year before. Almost.

As the train arrived, and the students came pouring out, Avery and the others wasted almost no time in carrying out the plans they had in their heads for dealing with "Gryffindor scum". An incoming first year who'd been excitedly talking about entering Gryffindor within earshot of them was Levicorpused. With a bit of an annoyed look, Severus released him. Not that he had any love for Gryffindor at this point, far from it. It was just asking for trouble to do something so brazen, so stupid, especially with Filch around to help oversee things. Besides, he wanted to get on a carriage as quickly as possible. Away from any of the older Gryffindors, or especially Lily.

"Look," he said rather coldly, as the first year scurried off, "Let's just find a carriage while there's still empty ones and get to the school. We can deal with _their lot_ later." A sudden pang hit him, as he realized how similar his own words had been to Lily's hours earlier. Looking a bit miffed, but not wanting to cross Severus, the others followed in line, taking the nearest empty carriage. Thankfully at least, they'd gotten there before having to deal with any of … _them_…

This year at least, Severus was single-minded about arriving at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall as quickly as possible, making no attempts as he had in past years to sneak off to see Lily first before the opening feast. Which was more than fine with the others, who Severus derisively thought in the back of his mind were probably thinking of nothing more than stuffing their stupid faces.

Suffice to say, he didn't necessarily think the most of his "friends" in Slytherin. They were, well… allies, pawns, more than friends in any true sense. Honestly, he found them to be halfway moronic at times, often causing more trouble for him through their hairbrained antics than seemed worth it. But at the end of the day, they were fellow Slytherins, and from wealthy pureblooded families. The sort of allies he'd need in his career as a Death Eater. That and, after Lucius had had the sense to prefer Severus out of his year as clearly the one with the most intelligence and potential and choose him as his de facto protégé, the others pretty much just listened to whatever he said when it absolutely came down to it. So, in a certain sense, they were still useful.

Now though, he just really didn't give a damn. He kept on trying to keep his attention on the faces of fellow Slytherins, most of them chatting excitedly at the table about the same matter that his dorm mates had brought up on the train. But his eyes kept on drifting over to the Gryffindor table, no matter how much he kept on cursing himself internally for it. Trying, hoping even for a second to meet Lily's eyes. But it never happened.

Once more, one of his brigand "friends" brought Severus's mind back to the present. " 'Ey Severus." Wilkes exclaimed, hitting him on the shoulder, his mouth already disgustingly full of some candy from the train as he spoke, before the damned feast had even started "You think that blood traitor headmaster of ours is gonna talk about this all in his speech?"

"Doubtful…" Severus remarked drily, "I can't see how he could possibly spin it in favor of his side. What could he possibly say except 'I assure you, no matter what happens, there's no safer place in the world than Hogwarts. No evil Dark Lords can get you here. And stay out of the forbidden forest'." He added in a rather mocking tone at the end. Well, effective enough at least that the three or four Slytherins sitting on either side of Severus burst into a round of laughter.

Severus didn't laugh though. He hated the man. In some senses his worst enemy here at the school, Dumbledore always seemed to favor the damned Gryffindors above anyone else. Let those idiotic "Marauders" reign with impunity, while any time any Slytherin stepped out of line it was almost immediately a matter of detention. His bias extending so far he even let that bloody … _werewolf_ stay in the school because he was a Gryffindor. And made Severus swear, upon threat of expulsion, to never reveal Lupin's identity to anyone after those bloody Marauders had tried to kill him. _They _of course, got off almost scott free. The thought of it all, especially now that he had new reasons to hate Gryffindor made his blood boil.

All he could do now was simply endure it. Sit through the sorting, the bloody cliched speeches. Eat what he could and be off to bed. At least find some refuge in dreams if nowhere else. "Just get on with the damned speech already, traitor..." He muttered under his breath, wanting more than anything for the worthless day to just be over.


	2. Enter Hermione

**Author Note: This is probably the chapter I'm most nervous about in terms of things. I've yet to write a narrative completely from Hermione's point of view. And while she (along Severus) is one of my absolute favorite characters from the series, I just hope I can do her justice. I'm also trying to set up certain deliberate parallels between them here. Hopefully it works. Constructive criticism would be great here, because I really want to do her justice, and have admittedly much lesser experience with Hermione than Snape. Apologies in advance for any Lavender Brown fans. Kinda portraying her to Hermione what James is to Severus here. xD**

**As a few technical points, yes, I realize that canonically Hermione didn't have a time turner outside of third year, but that's a plot-critical detail, so a necessary deviation from established canon. Also the scene itself obviously didn't occur in quite this manner in the HBP, and there's nothing in established canon (that I know of at least) for what would happen if one were to break a time turner (or if such a thing is even possible). Sorry, inner canon-nazi wanted me to clarify all that. Otherwise it's HBP-compliant up until this point.**

** Hun – Thanks for the comments. ^_^**

** RawenclawBabe – Thank you as well for the review. Yeah, I agree. Well, Dumbledore is a rather … complex character. Not really "evil"; at least, not after his falling out with Grindelwald, arguably; but not necessarily "good" in the purest sense either. More the archetypical "chessmaster" if anything. Since he's more than willing to sacrifice Harry, manipulate Severus's love for Lily rather harshly, etc. to accomplish his goal. But he's also more than willing to die himself in the process of outwitting the Dark Lord, so ehh… I'll withhold judgment on his overall moral character. I guess that's sort of the strength of the series. Almost none of the characters are neatly purely "good" or "evil". All have some degree or another of complicating factors, and Albus Dumbledore is certainly among them.**

**But yeah, in essence, I think at this point, canonically, Severus would HATE Dumbledore. Since he hated the Marauders and thus saw the administration of the school as incompetent or complicit with them, which, either way he'd despise. Add to that Dumbledore being outspoken against the Dark Lord, whom at this point Snape idolized. **

**And then most critically of all, the Shrieking Shack incident. To his credit, I think Dumbledore was just trying to protect Remus (who wasn't really at fault personally, since he couldn't exactly help the transformation; Sirius was mainly to blame there) in making Severus tell no one (and while it's not explicitly stated in the canon just how, I can imagine only something as severe as threat of being expelled would be sufficient to stop Severus from telling others at this point). But letting Sirius/James/Peter get off basically unpunished…. _ THAT part I have trouble reconciling with his character. But yeah, as far as Snape's POV is concerned, Dumbledore is basically evil incarnate at this point. xD**

**Ecch, obscenely long AN, sorry. _ For reference, I'll try to update this story every other day or so, but fall term is starting at my university this coming Monday, and I have no real means of gauging how busy I'll be until it starts. So we'll see. Should be updated at least 2-3 times a week though, time permitting.**

_December, 1996_

She'd seen it. She was seething. Ronald Weasely and Lavender Brown kissing in the corridor. Right in front of the Fat Lady. For anyone in Hogwarts to see. No shame in the act. No regard for who might see, who might have been watching. It'd taken nearly every fiber of her resolve to keep from smacking both of them right in the face. In front of the Fat Lady and all. If they could be that public, that uncaring about it all, then why couldn't she?

It wasn't even Lavender that Hermione really loathed. Well, of course she did, but Lavender was just … just a pawn in all of this. Just an idiot, an ignorant bimbo, a… She couldn't even think of it. Brown was probably too stupid, too ignorant to even realize that she might as well have torn out her dorm-mate's heart, stomped it into the ground a few times and shoved it back in every time she and Ron…

_No. Get that horrid image out of your head_… She was nauseous at the very thought.

A tear had nearly formed in her eye as she stood leaning against the other side of the Fat Lady, after having nearly screamed the password. Just anything to get away from _that_. The worst part of it all, Ron had seen her too. She was sure of it. His eyes had been disgustingly locked on Lavender's the whole time, but… Hermione had walked by. Well, of course she had, she thought crossly. She _had_ to. It was like he'd planned it deliberately. To be standing there, in front of the Fat Lady. Waiting for her to come by to enter the Gryffindor Dormitory – the one place in the world that had until recently seemed the safest on earth for Hermione – and then tear her heart out. Publicly. In front of everyone.

Her normally kind, warm brown eyes had burned with indignation, hatred, but worst of all _pain_. They'd met Ron's for at least an instant. She was sure of that much. And she hoped, hoped beyond anything else that he'd seen the first two without the last.

She couldn't believe it. Simply couldn't believe that Ronald Weasely. Someone she'd thought, believed, trusted to be her _friend_ could do this to her. _Knowingly_ betraying her love like that. Cold, uncaring. Almost _proud_ of it. And _why_…? Sure they'd had fights over the years – what friends didn't – but until now… until _this…_ Hermione had always thought that she, Harry, and Ron would always be inseparable. Would always have each others' backs. Ever since they took down that troll together as first years, defeated the wizard's chess board, solved Snape's riddle… No. She couldn't think about it. It was just _too_ painful right now.

Tears were forming now in her eyes. Angrily she wiped them away, steadying herself. She'd have to walk through the Gryffindor Common Room. See all her "friends". Almost all of them on _his_ side. Her stomach churned. She wasn't going to show them weakness if she could at all help it. She counted down from ten in her head, somehow finally summoning enough willpower to walk in. After all, if she could walk through there, she could get to her dorm. She could be alone there – hopefully. All she wanted now was to be alone. Away from Lavender and Ron. And anyone and anything that could remind her of either of them. It was so unfair, so bloody unfair. She'd been his friend for years, they'd done everything for one another. Saved each other's lives more than most adults could honestly say. And yet, despite all that… Despite all that, he hated her enough to do … this…

She'd nearly made it to the stairs leading up to the Girls' Dormitories, when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Hermione whirled around, almost angrily. Only to see the third member of the infamous Trio standing there, expectantly.

"Hermione, there you are." Harry had said, brightly. Too brightly. At least for now. _He_ was happy. Or at least content, or… She was fuming inside…"So I was going over the essay for History of Magic tomorrow. But I'm still a good four inches short. And I thought maybe you could help with the last bit."

"Do I look like an encyclopedia to you?" she'd nearly screamed in sudden exasperation. At this, nearly everyone's eyes in the Common Room looked up… uncomfortably… at her… As if they were boring into her.

"Sorry, I …" Harry had stammered, somewhat bewildered at Hermione's sudden hostility. "I just mean, I thought you'd already agreed to help me with this and…" He frowned at the end. "Hermione, what's wrong…?"

Hermione looked down for a minute. Harry was right. She had promised she would help him tonight – he'd been bothering her about it all week. That'd been why she was coming up to the Common Room in the first place before running into… "I…" her lower lip quivered a bit, speaking softly. "Ron, he…"

At this, Harry sighed in exasperation. This sort of cold war between Hermione and Ron had been playing all sorts of havoc in his head. And most of all he just didn't want to take a "side." He didn't want to get involved if he could absolutely help it. "Hermione, I don't care, alright. Let's just talk about the essay…"

It'd been the wrong thing to say. With a frustrated scream, Hermione went running up the stairs to her dorm. Even Harry! Even Harry, her other supposed closest friend was on _his_ side! She just couldn't take it anymore. The room was empty for now. Good. She could finally vent. She _needed_ to vent.

How could things have gone so terribly wrong…? Her two closest friends in the world – until recently at least – seemed almost to hate her. To not even care how much pain they were putting her through. To not even realize that she lo-…

No, she thought angrily. She wouldn't admit it… to him, or herself if she could at all help it. The emotions swirled around in her head. Frustration, rage, nausea, hatred, rejection, pain. The nearest book she could find went flying against the wall with a thud. Then another and another. In a minute or so, she'd ran out of them. But she needed more. It was still as painful, still as frustrating as ever.

Her journal, filled with Merlin how many tearful confessions of her unspoken love; a love that now looked like it would never materialize. She'd ran for it. Tore the cover off it. Started shredding page after page, until her bed was absolutely strewn with crinkled fragments of papers. Hot teardrops landing on a few. When even that failed her, her hand reached over her heart. Her physical heart. It literally felt as if someone had stabbed her there.

Her hand grasped over the more or less spherical golden orb there. And, unthinkingly, enraged, threw it at the nearby wall with as much force as she could muster.

That had been a mistake. In an instant, the timer turner hit the wall, the hourglass shattering, the sand seeming to pour out in a sort of cyclone that spun around rapidly. Hermione's eyes, still dripping with tears suddenly flashed wide in terror as the sandstorm engulfed her.

Then. Then there was nothing. She was back on her bed. In her dorm. Alone again. Seemed she was alright after all. Hermione collapsed against the pillow, sobbing weakly. But that was when she remembered. Her journal – or what was left of it – had been on the pillow. And now it was… gone. The fragments, they'd been everywhere. The books she'd thrown. None of it there.

Her heart began to beat. Anxiety kicked in. The more attention she paid to detail, the more alien "her" dormitory seemed. The beds and desks were still there in more or less the same arrangements, but. The tapestries were different, less faded. None of her things were there. It… it wasn't possible. It wasn't rational. Hermione closed her eyes hard for a good five seconds before opening them. But the scene before her was just as alien as before.

She was starting to become frightened. Just what had happened? Frightened enough that she momentarily almost forgot about what Ron had just done; frightened enough to forgive Harry his earlier remark, enough to at least find him, try to figure this out together.

She'd ran down the stairs, only to find the Common Room… empty. Absolutely empty. But … how? Not five minutes ago, at least half a dozen people had witnessed her and Harry's exchange and… She stopped mid-thought. A sudden, painful theory coming to mind. Hermione … thought she knew what might have happened. It was insane, crazy. She'd never heard of it happening before like this but… it was the only thing that could even begin to reasonably make sense of what just happened.

Trembling, she ran over to one of the bookshelves in the Common Room. Flipping through book after book. Most of them familiar, if newer-looking than normal. But… increasingly horrifyingly… none of the books she could find; none of the editions seemed to be any later than the mid _seventies_… H-how could that even be…? Surely there had to be some mistake. There had to be some other, more reasonable explanation for what had happened. Maybe she'd hit her head, was having some hallucination. She'd wake up in Madam Pomfrey's in a few minutes and this whole horrible affair would be over. Yeah, that could be it. Maybe… Hopefully… It _had_ to be, she thought desperately…

Because, if the logical, rational explanation – the one that had first popped into her mind, however unlikely – was true. If Hermione was really where, or more aptly, _when_ she thought she was. Then, not only would Lavender have Ron, and Harry take his side. But… she'd never see them again. Not until she was practically old enough to be their parents.

However angry she'd been, however much she hated what Ron – and even Harry – had just done to her, that seemed … unbearable.

"This… This can't be!" she'd whimpered, kneeling down by the bookshelf.

There was no Harry, no Ron to help her here. She was on her own. Truly on her own. And that was … terrifying.

She'd knelt there sobbing softly for… she didn't know how long, when another thought occurred. Even if it was … however many years in the past… Surely there'd still be students here. Other Gryffindors. Even if she didn't recognize any of them, they'd still be here, wouldn't they…?

Unless… it was summer? Or a holiday of some sort. She supposed there was no real reason to expect that just because she'd come from early December that there was any reason that she'd be in the same time of year. She stood up, trembling. She could be alone – for months – before anyone even came. No one could possibly even know to come looking for her. She wouldn't even be _born_ for at least another five years or so… depending on _when_ she actually was…

It was her first, last, and only instinct. She'd find Dumbledore. Somehow, she'd find him. He'd always helped in the past when things seemed darkest, most impossible. He… he wouldn't even recognize her. But… but… she'd explain it, he'd have to understand. He'd _have_ to…

She'd sprinted from the Common Room to the corridor, past the Fat Lady – now dressed rather differently than she was used to – who'd yelled at her angrily for waking her up, before accusingly informing Hermione that there shouldn't even _be_ students at Hogwarts until tomorrow, and saying that she'd never even seen her before.

Hermione had sprinted away again, as fast as her legs could take her. So, it was the day before term started now…? August 31st, right? But… what year? Her thoughts were racing as she finally arrived, gasping for breath at the gargoyle that guarded the entrance to Dumbledore's office. The day before term started. He'd… have to be there… wouldn't he…?

Then another thought occurred, her heart sinking. She'd need a password. And since she didn't even know the year she was in, how could she possibly put forth the most basic guess…?

Tears of frustration threatened to well up again as she called out anything she could think of related to Dumbledore, but the gargoyle stood silent and unmoving.

Then, in an instant, she felt a hand on her shoulder. Startled, almost scared, she whipped around, only to find herself staring into a slightly different, but instantly recognizable face. His hair was a bit darker grey, he had a few less wrinkles, his beard was almost the same. It was Dumbledore. Hermione had to suppress the urge to hug him out of relief.

For his part Dumbledore stood there looking at her rather curiously. "Are you quite alright, Miss…?" he'd asked, "Looks like you're giving my poor gargoyle quite a fright…"

"Granger…" Hermione looked down. "_Hermione _Granger." It was so strange, so surreal, seeing Dumbledore, recognizing him, and yet him not knowing who she was? Well, how could he? She wouldn't even be born at this point, her parents were muggles. Her name wasn't even on the list, she…

"Ahh, Miss Hermione Granger." Dumbledore repeated with a kindly smile in his eyes. "So then, Miss Granger, how is it that you came to be here outside my office…?"

"I-I… don't know…" she admitted, the words now flowing out. "I know this is all going to sound really strange and… I don't know if you'll even believe me and…" She sighed. "I don't even know the _year_…"

"1976." Dumbledore had replied with a slow nod, not questioning her earlier statements.

At this, Hermione's eyes widened with bewilderment. She'd already deduced some time around the mid to late seventies but… actually _hearing_ it. Hearing it from a noticeably younger Dumbledore. It somehow made it seem even more real.

"Professor, I…" she frowned, not really sure how to explain it all, where to even begin. "There's something I need to know. Is it… would it be alright if I talk to you in your office for a bit…? I mean, I know this is probably very out of the ordinary… Certainly never happened before that I heard of… I didn't even know it was _theoretically_ possible until…" Like it or not, Hermione had a bit of a tendency to be quite wordy when she was nervous. Well, not as if she wasn't at other times as well…

"Well now, this does sound interesting…" Dumbledore had replied. "I think I might indulge my curiosity yes, Miss Granger." Turning for a moment to the Gargoyle, he'd uttered "Peppermint Toads", and at once, the stairway to his office revealed itself.

Once the two of them had reached the top, Dumbledore directed her to sit down. He offered her some of the previously named candy. Hermione was feeling anything but hungry at the moment, but out of relief and gratitude that she'd found Dumbledore and he seemed to be willing to listen, she took one. Just holding it in her hand for the moment.

"I've always been somewhat partial to the candy of Honeydukes," Dumbledore had remarked. "Though, at my age, these particular ones seem a bit … disagreeable. Feel free to try it though if you'd like."

Hermione had muttered a weak thanks before suddenly pouring into a tearful, almost erratic, confession of the events that had led up to this. How she was actually not even supposed to be born for another three years, and had been a sixth-year Gryffindor, how she'd gotten into a… fight with some of her friends (she left out the exact details, feeling rather ashamed of it all), how she'd … admittedly foolishly, broken her time turner, and finally how in result, she'd ended up… here. At times Dumbledore had stopped her, kept her from saying too much. There was danger, he'd said, in knowing things about the future before they happened. Who knew what such might do to the fabric of time.

But wait. If he was saying that, then… "So… y-you believe me…?" Hermione had almost whimpered.

"Well, of course I believe you." Dumbledore had nodded. "Anything else would only seem less likely."

Once more, Hermione had to suppress a very strong urge to hug him. "So…" she asked, somewhat afraid of the answer, "Do you know… I mean… Can you get me back, to my own time…?"

A bit of a sad smile came over Dumbledore's face. "Personally, no. While in my not-so-humble opinion, there are certain areas of magic that I consider myself somewhat a master of, the construction and theory behind timer turners are not among them…"

A look of absolute despair came across Hermione's face. She was millimeters away from bursting into tears again.

"Please don't cry." Dumbledore quickly added. "I'd rather not trouble the House Elves to clean my desk again tonight. Again, to answer your rather prudent question, I personally do not know. But, there are of course those who make it their goal in life to research such matters. Under normal circumstances of course, their research is kept hidden but… Well, I have friends among them. I'll write tomorrow to the Ministry. See if I can't get them to find a way to send you back."

A weak smile once more formed on Hermione's face. "Th-thank you!"

"Oh, it's no matter really. Personally I find the idea of all this quite… fascinating. Certainly more so than the book I would have otherwise read tonight… You know, sometimes I think reality is so much stranger than any fiction might ever be?"

"That said," he continued after a brief pause, "It would be doing you a great disservice if not to allow you to continue your education in the same school that you've studied at already into your sixth year. As Headmaster of course, the power falls upon my head to determine which students to admit. And since you've already – in some sense of the word – studied here, and been sorted into Gryffindor, I see no reason why you should not continue to be a sixth year Gryffindor. Though, I'm afraid the role of prefect…" he said, pointing to badge on her uniform, that Hermione had entirely forgotten about until this point, "Is already held by Miss Lily Evans. A lovely girl really. I'm sure the two of you will get along quite well."

Hermione's mind was now spinning. Lily Evans. As in… Lily Evans _Potter_. Harry's _mother_? Or eventual mother. She hadn't considered it until now but… She would… would know some of the students after all. Actually, quite a few of them. If her math was right, from what she knew… She'd be in the same year with… That was a bit mindblowing. Surreal.

"So you mean… I can still study here… until you can find a way to send me back?"

Dumbledore had nodded, and at this point explained certain guidelines he thought it best if she observed. Firstly, that she make no indication to anyone that she was from the future. As it'd almost certainly put her in a very awkward position, and again, any information from the future known to the past was almost certain to have unintended consequences. She'd be introduced as an incoming transfer student. Her family had moved, and thus she was attending Hogwarts. While somewhat rare, it had occurred a few times in Hogwarts history, and there was certainly nothing impossible about it. As long as she was careful, no one would probably think anything of it, he assured her. The second point stressed – to the degree possible, she should be honest. The fewer lies she had to tell, had to remember, the better. The lesser chance she had of possibly running into an awkward contradiction she'd have to account for. Thus, it'd be best if she presented herself to the school as Hermione Granger, a sixth-year, muggleborn, Gryffindor. Who just so happened to have transferred there that year.

It… was still all so sudden. She was still in disbelief. But the dominant, logical part of Hermione's mind had to agree with Dumbledore's logic on … well, all points. It really did seem the best way of making it out of the mess that she'd landed herself in.

"Agreed." Hermione had said softly, "And once more… thank you, Professor."


	3. The Welcoming Feast

**Author Note: Sorry for the delay in getting this one out. I had a session tutoring ELI students today and started making preparations for classes/logistics of things this coming term. Again, after Monday, I'm not entirely certain how busy I'm going to be (I'll have a better idea of things come next Friday). But probably a few times a week at least.**

**A big THANK YOU again to everyone who reviewed me. Trying to keep my AN's shorter, so my word count isn't too unnaturally inflated, so I'll only respond to those who raise a specific issue/question. But I appreciate it from EVERYONE.**

** duj – Fair enough. I suppose if anything, Dumbledore could be conceived of as a "lawful neutral" moral alignment. Since inarguably his highest goal in life post-Grindelwald at least, was defeating Voldemort (aside from maybe when he almost jeopardized that quite stupidly with the Resurrection Stone). And he did a lot of things both good (protecting Harry and his allies many times) and arguably evil towards that end. The real shocker to it all is that really until the seventh book came along (unless you dug really carefully through the clues in the earlier ones), he SEEMED lawful good about as purely as possible. **

**That all said, in THIS particular fanfic, at least as far as I have it plotted out now, Dumbledore is going to play a fairly tertiary role. At the very least for quite a while, he's played his biggest part by far in this already. And while he'll come up a few times in conversation (nowhere near as much as primary or secondary characters), it'll mostly be either from the point of view of Severus (who hates him, arguably justifiably), or Hermione (who supports him, again from her position, arguably justifiably).**

_September 1__st__, 1976_

It'd only been a few minutes later when the nervous-looking First Year Students came pouring in to the Great Hall, lining up for the Sorting. The same damned hat that Severus had watched for the past four years in silent loathing. The same hat that had been the first being to divide him from Lily, drive a wedge between them. Until the end of last year, he'd always thought the Sorting Hat had been wrong about her, made a mistake. It was either incompetent or malevolent – just like most of the Hogwarts staff really – and either way he despised it.

But now, seeing it again. After… it seemed it'd been right. It'd put them in enemy houses, and now she was acting like an enemy… He hated it more than ever. It, the Gryffindor House, most of the Hogwarts Staff. It was as if they were all part of the same dark conspiracy to make his life as absolutely miserable as possible. And for what… studying, having more knowledge, certainly more fascination for areas of magic most would hardly even know existed? For devoting his time to bettering himself instead of running around causing mindless mayhem, _ruining others' lives_…?

It was like the entire system was set up to punish the worthy and reward the degenerate. The same as the Ministry really. Hogwarts was just a microcosm of the wizarding world at large. The same Ministry that protected the _muggles_ – their historical enemies – and tied the hands of magic users behind their backs. Just as the Hogwarts administration favored the inferior, the degenerate, the violent, the natural enemies of all who stood for advancement, so too did the Ministry. Just look what those laws had done to his mother, the noble Prince line… all but literally tortured to death by that hideous drunkard, deadbeat _muggle_, all because she – a witch, his superior – had been forbidden by her own government from fighting back.

It was infuriating. The world was an absolutely unjust place. Letting Tobias and the Marauders, Gryffindors in general run free to spread torment to others, while restraining the worthy from defending themselves, taking retaliatory action. Well, he thought. It wouldn't always have to be that way. The Dark Lord was rising to power. He was strong, perhaps undefeatable. Certainly one of the most powerful wizards the world had seen in a long time. Already the Ministry was showing signs of weakness, faltering. They and their lot were corrupt, weak, inferior, and could only exist so long before the worthy, superior ones overtook and destroyed them. Victory would be the Dark Lord's and he would finally deal with _them_. Make the world a better place for those who deserved it.

And, he thought bitterly. The Sorting Hat _had_ been wrong about Lily. Sure it'd put her in with degenerates. Sure for now they'd poisoned her mind enough that she hated him. But, in time. She'd see. She'd have to see. Inevitably, the Dark Lord was going to win. The Dark Lord was stronger, invincible. And as a Death Eater, Severus would be on the winning side. He could keep her safe in the years to come, when whatever advantage the Marauders and their ilk held would very quickly dissipate after graduation and… the Ministry's fall. They'd be shown for the cowards they were, always hiding behind numbers or rules that favored the weak. And he, he would be a hero. Victorious, on the _winning_ side. And… he'd save her. Save her where they couldn't. Lily could be stubborn as anything, but she was intelligent too; in time she'd have to see the inevitable. He'd save her, they'd forgive one another, restore the friendship and love they'd once had. And all the degenerates would burn around them. Yeah, that sounded… perfect.

Still, he looked for a second like he'd been physically stabbed when the hat called out "GRYFFINDOR" for the first of the first years to put the thing on his head. As if the Sorting Hat had done so intentionally on a capricious whim just to jeer about having put Lily there five years back. It was too painful, the memories attached. Most of the others at the Slytherin table jeered or shouted profanities. Snape just sat there, looking sullen. Something he was rather good at by now, so most didn't even notice him. Really though, he barely paid any real attention to the Sorting Process itself. His thoughts were elsewhere. Every call of "Gryffindor" a sharp pain shot through him, every call of "Slytherin" he clapped weakly – not really caring, as in practical terms he'd have little effective interaction with those so much younger than himself anyway. The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, he really couldn't care any less.

Lily was _all_ that mattered. And while he would do something… anything… _whatever_ it took to get her back. He'd win in the end. He'd have to… And while all that could … would have to be done… in time… For now, she hated him. And at least in part, that damned hat, the whole Sorting process was to blame. Were the school staff sadists? Why did they force him to sit through this year after year, especially now after… He just hung his head for a minute. Hoping he could pass it off as just being physically tired or… He didn't even care…

Finally, after Edward Zacharias was put into Ravenclaw, the whole affair was over. It'd hurt a lot more than he'd imagined it would. _Now on to the traitor's speech_, he thought glumly. Would the torture never end?

And as if on cue of Snape's thoughts, Dumbledore made his way to the podium, to address the students. Most of them, even the other Slytherins looking excitedly – though in the latters' case, mostly just to see how he'd address certain… recent events…

"Good evening to all of you."

_Yeah, it's bloody brilliant, isn't it? Best day of my whole damned life, thank you very much… What a stupid phrase… _Severus started dissecting Dumbledore's speech in his mind.

"And welcome back to another year of learning. First, I'd like to extend a very warm welcome to our newest professor, Argentum Gyllenkrok who will be filling in the position of professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts in the absence of last year's professor."

A rather stern-looking wizard with a long narrow beard, somewhat like Dumbledore's, but cut much more narrowly stepped forward and gave an almost imperceptibly small bow, before returning to his seat. Most of the students were looking at him curiously or more aptly … warily, as he seemed to have a certain aura of strictness about him. But Severus's narrowed eyes were fixed squarely on Dumbledore. Was he really the only one to take notice? That each and every last year they always had a new professor. And it was always in that exact department. Clearly something was amiss. And clearly Dumbledore must have had his hand in it. Snape wasn't sure exactly what or for exactly what purpose but… this was just another clue, another piece to the puzzle of Dumbledore's treachery. That one day, he swore, he'd reveal for all the world to see.

After that followed the same general speech, utilizing the same general clichés and points he'd already heard five years before. A slight spiteful smile did grace Severus's face for a second though, when Dumbledore seemed to end his speech with the same line about Hogwarts being safe, and not to enter the forest. Merlin, the man was predictable.

But then, something happened. Something Severus – or probably anyone for that matter – certainly hadn't been expecting.

"And finally," Dumbledore had said, "I have something of an announcement to make. It seems that in addition to the first years who are now joining us, Hogwarts has gained one other new student." At this, Severus's eyes instantly narrowed with suspicion. _Another werewolf?_ He thought bitterly. Anything with Dumbledore involved already aroused his darkest suspicions, and now that it was something _this_ unusual. Something that he'd never heard of happening before. Well, Severus would get to the bottom of this. And hopefully expose the man for the biased fraud he was.

"I'd like you all to extend a warm welcome to Miss Hermione Granger who will be joining us for her sixth year. As you might happen to see, she's already been sorted into the Gryffindor House. I'm sure you're all very eager to meet and we'll all get along jolly fine." A round of groans, and some obscenities flew from the Slytherin table, while the idiots in Gryffindor stood to cheer and welcome her as the brown haired girl stepped forward past the podium and quickly made her way over to the Gryffindor table.

"Let's just see how long you last…" Severus muttered darkly as she made her way to her table, his narrowed eyes trailing her the entire way. Until she came to sit next to them… The Marauders… The same four bloody idiots who had been cheering the loudest at the news… Alright, that made it official. He hated her now. He'd never met her, didn't know the first thing about her beyond her name, year, and House. But being a Gryffindor, associated with him, sitting with them. That was enough… She didn't need to do anything more than that.

For her part, Hermione had been rather embarrassed, being introduced to the entire school at once like that. She supposed… supposed Dumbledore was trying to be helpful, ensure the others knew her, her … circumstances – to the extent she could be honest about them at least – before classes started. At least he'd covered most of it for her but… She almost thought her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she made her way off the podium towards the Gryffindor table.

The reception, in general seemed to be positive enough. Most seemed to be eyeing her with a degree of curiosity, but seemed welcoming and friendly enough. Then… there was the Slytherin table. She groaned internally. Evidently, even twenty years in the past, they were still the same mean spirited sort they'd always been. Oh well. She wouldn't let it bother her too much. She had much bigger concerns on her mind than a few … miscreants.

Hermione quickly made her way over to the table. It was … nice enough of Dumbledore to do what he'd done for her surely, but she hated the feel of everyone's eyes on her, all at once. The Slytherins' excepted, they were probably all well-meaning but… especially with a secret like she now had, the last thing she wanted was everyone questioning her. Though it was probably inevitable. A slight frown furrowed across her brow as she looked for a seat. By this time, even the incoming first years – odd as it seemed, actually old enough to have been her professors – had taken their seats, and the longer she was lingering, the more uncomfortable it was becoming.

Until she felt a tap on her shoulder, and spun around to see… Harry? B-but that wasn't possible, he… Oh. Right. James. She'd always heard that Harry had looked remarkably like her father, but now that she could actually see it… she could see how it hadn't been much of an exaggeration.

And then getting up to stand next to him. Sirius Black. He was younger of course, but … she'd recognize him anywhere. A tear almost came to her eye at the sight of him. After… what had happened in her fifth year, she didn't think she'd ever see him again… Well, she supposed this wasn't "after" at all, was it…? How terribly confusing.

And there, sitting down on the other side of the table – Lupin! The one professor of DADA who hadn't been out to kill them, a fraud, or an absolute and utter sadist. Actually, on all accounts, he was one of the best she'd ever had. Though, for now, he was just a student, wasn't he? This was really, really odd…

For a second, she forgot all about her troubles. It was just so … weird… but in a good way, definitely a good way. Seeing them "again". Or for the first time. Or… Whatever…

"Well, my lovely young lady, I'd like to be the first to welcome you to Hogwarts. The name's Sirius Black." Hermione nodded knowingly, then almost panicked at the thought that he'd seen her expression. How could she possibly explain already knowing who he was when… Her thoughts were interrupted as Sirius took her hand in his and kissed it. "Care to sit with us…?"

At this, Hermione frowned heavily. Sure, she was glad to see him again, but that only went… so far… With a very uncomfortable laugh, she motioned towards Lupin, seated on the other side of the table. "Sure, well, _that_ chair looks very nice." Purposefully pointing out the seat next to Remus.

Sirius pouted slightly, but Hermione quickly made her way to the _other_ side of the table before he could say anything. And quickly sat down in the empty seat next to Lupin. Somehow she had the sort of intuition that he at least wouldn't be so … uncomfortable to sit next to. Yeah, nothing really against Sirius. He… probably was nice, well-meaning. Well, surely he was as an adult. He was just a bit… forward. A lot of adolescent males could be that way.

She'd smiled, introducing herself to the "first" time to Remus, and for truly the first time to James, a bit of sadness that she hoped didn't show in her eyes as she reflected that the two Gryffindors seated across from her both wouldn't be alive in her own time… One would be murdered in his own home by he-who-must-not-be-named himself, and the other spend much of the remainder of his life in Azkaban for a crime he didn't commit, then have to remain in hiding, and finally be murdered in turn… It… was painful to think about.

When Hermione turned to the other side, she'd nearly shrieked. There, to her right, directly opposite Lupin, a rather heavy-set young man too was holding his hand out. He didn't even have to say his name for her to know. Pettigrew. She could feel her temper rising. Him… He was the one responsible… responsible for what had happened to the two Gryffindors sitting across from her. His own comrades, he'd let them die. A coward, a traitor.

Hermione felt almost nauseous as she reached out to touch … his hand. She supposed she couldn't very well explain why she didn't seem to have much of a liking for him, could she? Hermione pulled away as quickly as possible, just nodding at his name, not bothering to repeat it like the others.

It was only then, when she quickly turned away from Pettigrew she noticed. There were … another set of eyes watching her. Cold, calculating, suspicious. It… couldn't be. She'd nearly groaned. But there, sitting nearly directly in her line of sight, over at the Slytherin table, a _very_ familiar looking sixth year with greasy black hair and coal black eyes was almost glowering at her with the same icy, suspicious gaze she'd endured from him for years.


	4. Trouble in Potions

**Author's Note: Ehh, for whatever reason I ended up going rather "stream of consciousness" for the first two sections of this chapter. I guess just since the interaction between them is still just starting; and I was trying in some ways to demonstrate how, despite being "opposite" in so many ways, they actually have a lot in common in terms of their thought processes. Let me know if you like the style or prefer something more strictly linear.**

** RawenclawBabe – Indeed. Well, I always pictured Severus as having sort of three rather strong motivations for joining the Death Eaters. The first because they – or at least their allies in Slytherin – were in some senses the first group to ever really accept him, and they have power, which he craves, and mistakenly thinks Lily would be impressed. The second because he really does hate the Ministry/etc. for what they did to his mother, etc. And the third… probably the most tragic of all in hindsight; well, I'll get into in a later chapter that I already have planned out. xD**

**Also. Granted the details about the backstory on Eileen and Tobias isn't really known canonically. I always sort of pictured Eileen as being somewhere between Merope Gaunt (in love, initially at least with a muggle who goes on to hate her, though in Eileen's case, obviously not leave her), and her son (desperately in love with someone so "opposite" from them, that she tries to "force" it to work, with an even more disastrous consequence in the end). Just conjecture I suppose though, so read into it what you will. ^_^**

September 2nd, 1976

Whatever relief Severus thought he'd get in sleep never materialized. The feast had been… fine he supposed. Aside from the Sorting Hat practically taunting him, _another _DADA professor, and that strange new girl who was evidently involved in one of Dumbledore's new schemes… Alright, so it'd been terrible. And boded more terrible yet for the future if his intuition was worth anything; and after that whole affair with the Shrieking Shack, when it came to Dumbledore and … _them_… it certainly seemed to be.

He'd eaten enough he supposed. Not that he was particularly hungry, just he knew he probably should, if for nothing more than to not stand out. He'd managed to make all the right comments at just the right part of whatever conversation was going on without really caring to pay attention; something with "friends" like his that he'd become damned good at. And eventually it'd been over; Dumbledore had sent them all off to their dormitories. He never thought he'd be so glad to hear that odious old man speak in his entire life…

He'd rushed straight off to his dormitory, barely even bothering to take more than a haphazard effort at unpacking and washing up for the night before collapsing wearily on his bed. Avery and the others had asked him if he wanted to run off and do… some idiocy or another; he'd only half heard them. But, feigning physical exhaustion – which certainly wasn't a lie; it'd been one of the most draining days of his life – he managed to excuse himself for the night early, wishing them well on whatever mindlessness they were sure to create…

He'd closed his eyes, tried to sleep. And, tired as he was, it actually came quite quickly. But there was no real rest in it. There were dreams, but she was there in them. For years, nothing had brought him a greater sense of peace, contentment than seeing Lily's face, her eyes, her smile. But as they danced around in his head that night, there were no smiles; there was nothing in her eyes but scorn and hatred. Lily had changed… forever. The love of his life hated him, and so dreams only released his subconscious to unleash all the silent torment he'd been carrying hidden side.

Severus had probably tossed and turned terribly that night, but by the time the others were back in, they were so tired and stupid to have not taken any real notice. Finally, morning came, and with it a small ray of hope. Well, not of hope in any real sense, merely distraction: He had potions class first thing that morning.

To some it would sound a trivial fact. It was a subject reviled by most, properly understood by only a select few. Along with DADA, Potions had always been Severus's favorite subject. It was something of the mindset of it all he supposed. There was an order to it, a reason, logic. Even when all else was wrong and chaotic in the world, it provided solace. It forced one's attention. It brought a sense of order, of control. It was almost a zen sort of thing. Even when he was child, when Tobias would come home in a drunken stupor, beat Severus and his mother; the sort of cold, analytic, order it provided, even then it provided some relief. It… and her. And now she was gone. It was the only refuge he had left any longer in the world, transient as it could be.

And so while his spirits were hardly "bright" that morning at breakfast, they were somewhat more stable than the night before at least. He'd brought it with him to the morning meal, the Advanced Potion-Making textbook; the same one that'd first belonged to his mother.

His mother… he thought with a rather sad internal sigh. She hadn't been perfect, hadn't always been the best towards him. But… unlike his father, she had actually cared. She didn't harbor unconditional hatred for him for simply being born using magic. Her sins if any were those of omission, not commission. But it wasn't even really her fault. From his earliest memories of her, Eileen had been… terrified of Tobias. Why she'd had the insane desire to marry a muggle in the first place, ruin the noble Prince line… he couldn't say. Even when they had been alone, she never much wanted to get in to it.

From what he could surmise, what he could deduce, the logical inferences he could make out between her tears and his father's drunken ravings… Eileen too had been good at potions. And… she'd been a fool. She, despite being a pureblooded Slytherin of a noble family line had fallen for a muggle. Someone inferior, beneath her status. But despite all reason, her unconditional, irrational love won out in her. So by way of potions she'd won his heart. A rather easy task on a muggle of all things. She'd never told him of course, what she was… She was willing to give it up… everything, all she had for him… And for _what_…?

After they were married, she'd stopped using the potion. Tobias had stayed, mostly for her money; she'd converted most of the Prince family's wealth into muggle currency. Which the foul man had wasted away on gambling and drinking like the loathsome creature he was. It… hadn't been until after Severus was born though, until that… he knew, he showed his truest, vilest character.

Eileen for her part had been willing to sacrifice everything for him. Her honor, her fortune, her family line, even the use of her magic. She'd cast it all aside, acted like a muggle would. Tobias hadn't the slightest idea she was a witch until… until young Snape had started showing latent magical abilities. He didn't mean it, he couldn't have known what trouble it would cause but… Tobias had found out. His son was a wizard, and his wife a witch. That was when the abuse had really started. He… hated magic, hated anything to do with his wife or son…

And it was from that, from that that Severus had learned the hard truth. That muggles were no friends of magic users. If a muggle father hated his own witch wife and wizard son so bitterly, there couldn't possibly be any good among them. The neighbors, the other children. They'd all been the same. Laughed at him at best, threw rocks or did other such things in other cases. They only drove the point in further.

Lily though. She'd been so different. So much _better_. What an incredible relief, delight it'd been when he first saw her using magic. She was … a witch. Someone like his mother and him. Someone who would understand, someone who would be on his side, who would have to be. Or so he'd thought… Eileen and Lily. The two witches he wanted nothing more to stand by him. Now one lay dead, and the other hated him. How could things have possibly, possibly gone so terribly wrong…?

A tear hit the parchment of the index of the textbook he'd turned to. Damnitall, so much for stable emotions. "This Book is the Property of the Half-Blood Prince." He'd written as much over this past summer. It… was the least he could do for his mother. Maybe it wasn't the fairest analysis of things, but in some small ways, he felt responsible for what had happened to her. If… if he hadn't been a wizard. Or at least hadn't showed such strong magic abilities. Then, maybe Tobias wouldn't have been as cruel to her. Wouldn't have driven her to such an early death. Most of all though, he blamed the man himself. The horrible, cruel, muggle man who'd all but literally tortured his mother to death… And… the Ministry. For letting it happen.

With that signature, that alias. He divorced himself entirely from Tobias Snape, muggle. He was the son of Eileen Prince. A witch of a powerful, noble family. One that he'd restore, if there was any justice to be had in the world at all, with Lily at his side. He wouldn't, he couldn't lose both of them.

* * *

><p>Hermione, for her part felt as if her head were spinning as she awoke. She had thought it was all maybe just some terrible dream, and if she were to go to bed… she might by chance end up waking up for real. It was nice… fascinating… certainly to have met the younger counterparts of Sirius and Remus, meet James for the first time, and… she wouldn't even think about <em>him<em>. Or the sixth year Slytherin that had eyed her in cold suspicion last night, but especially _him_…

Actually. She wasn't sure… No, she hated Pettigrew more, definitely, but… Snape was a near second. There was just… something about the way he'd looked at her last night. Like… he just assumed her to be guilty of some heinous offense. Just because she was there, or in Gryffindor, or… She didn't even know what exactly it was about her in particular he seemed to loathe so much. Well, her, and Ron, and … particularly Harry.

From what she'd seen. From what the Marauders had told her about him… He hadn't changed a bit in twenty years. Well, sure he'd gotten a bit taller, even more sour looking. His nose a bit bigger, his hair a bit greasier. But he still seemed the same terrible, suspicious, cruel man he ever was. Always assuming the absolute worst of everyone. Well, aside from his fellow Slytherins of course… And, from what she knew of the man, what she'd endured for more than five years… Hermione knew full well that this certainly wasn't the last she'd see of Severus Snape.

Except… now they were on a more even footing. They were both students, subject to the same rules. He had no more authority than she did. He couldn't give her detentions, deduct points from Gryffindor. _He_, she thought rather shrewdly, couldn't do anything to her. Well, he could report her to a professor or something she guessed, but she'd have to have _done_ something in the first place, wouldn't she? And objectively, Hermione at least considered herself to be a quite good student. Even the worst he could ever call her was an "insufferable know-it-all."

It was perfect, a slight bit of consolation to the whole thing. As long as she wasn't stupid, she was absolutely immune to him. It was her chance for vengeance of a sort. A bright smile played across her lips as she strolled down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

Hermione found an empty seat next to Lupin. All the better. Nothing against James or Sirius. Hermione was rather fond of all of them so far. They were a bit… forward, but almost in an endearing sort of way. In some senses, they reminded her almost of Fred and George.

Oh… Hermione frowned. She … couldn't think of them without thinking of … Ron. And that… that was painful. Even more so now. It… was terrible enough when he was dating Lavender, so publicly. Seemed to hate her enough to … do that to her. But now. Now she'd done something so incredibly … stupid. That… she wasn't even certain if she'd ever be able to see him again and…

She clenched her eyes shut, trying to shut those … painful images out. Not entirely successfully. Anything, anything else to take the place. Class, school, academics. That… for her usually worked. If her mind was busy on something rigid, something concrete.

So she had potions first, right? What was it they were going over in that? Somewhat embarrassingly, almost opposite her normal character, in the rather chaotic circumstances of her entering this term, she … well, didn't even have any of her books yet. Dumbledore had arranged for the professors in the classes she was taking to simply give her one of the excess books for each of their classes on the first day.

So … potions. What would they be going over…? Umm… Well, logically speaking… If the curriculum was the same…Wait, it'd have to be the same! A sort of lightbulb went off in her head. In her sixth year, Slughorn had come in as the new Professor of Potions. Replacing that hideous, cruel… Anyhow. And, if she recalled, he was also the Potions Professor _before_ Snape, meaning… Meaning, unless Slughorn had significantly changed his lessons – which she really couldn't see him doing – then for the first few months… she'd be ahead of the entire class. She'd at least have the advantage of already hearing the lessons, already going over the material in advance. She could … maybe even best Snape himself. Beat him at his own art. Wouldn't that be satisfying? Payback for all the snide remarks he'd made… or would starting in fifteen years or…?

Fine, so it sounded a bit petty. But, Snape had been a professor of the absolute worst sort. There were few things in the world Hermione preferred to studying, learning, expanding her mind. And yet… he managed to make it difficult for even her to desire at times. Yeah. Just once, just once, she wanted to beat him, humiliate him, now that they were on an even playing field. As payback for all the years of terrible classes he'd made her endure.

She'd evidently chuckled a bit at the thought, because Lupin had turned to her, asking what was so funny.

"Oh," she replied, a slight frown forming. She couldn't exactly explain to him the irony in beating her former/future … however one looked at it … professor in his own subject could she? "It was just… My parents. They're muggles. Well-meaning but a bit ignorant of our ways at times, you know? Anyhow… My dad sent me a _Quibbler_, thinking it was the _Daily Prophet_. And it had the most ridiculous article on these supposed beings called 'nargles' and…"

A slight sad look came over her face again. One that thankfully Lupin missed. It … it'd worked to bring excuse her earlier laugh, but… her parents. Would she ever see them again? Well… Hermione supposed they were adults, together at this point. She'd be born in three years and fourteen days after all. But that… that'd be an infant, a different person entirely. If her parents saw her now. They wouldn't recognize her. They wouldn't have a faintest idea who she, their own daughter was. She'd… she'd lost them too… What a miserable thought…

Or the _Quibbler_ – Luna Lovegood. Another of her friends. Another pang hit her. Alright, that'd been really "well" thought out, hadn't it…?

"Yeah," Lupin laughed slightly on his own. "Pretty inane stuff in there if you ask me…"

"So…" Hermione added quickly, desperate to change the topic, "Where's James and Sirius?" Deliberately making a point of leaving Pettigrew out, though she wasn't certain if Lupin noticed. If he did, he made no mention of it.

"Oh…" he said, rolling his eyes slightly, pointing to nearly the other end of the Gryffindor table. "They're down there."

There, standing rather than sitting down, James and Sirius seemed to be talking to… well, from the other parties' expressions, more like harassing … a number of Gryffindor girls. Evidently she wasn't the only one Sirius did that to. Hermione was too far away to hear the conversations of course, but… that's when she noticed. The girl, the one that James seemed most fixated. The same redheaded prefect who'd introduced herself last night as Lily Evans.

So… that was all it how started. She couldn't help but be vaguely curious. From the looks of things, Lily seemed to wear the same expression of vague annoyance at the boys' antics that the others did. But then, it happened. A bit of a smile broke through. Lily had laughed slightly at one of James's jokes, even if making a dignified attempt at hiding it. James for his part was beaming a huge smile. Kind of like an arrogant prat but… there was something sort of endearing about him. Even if Hermione didn't know that he was Harry's father; while she found him somewhat annoying in the sense that Fred and George sometimes vexated her, she was … happy for him.

So, they were starting to get together. James and Lily. Harry's parents. A bit of a sad smile formed on her face. They'd have such little time together before… Yeah; she was glad if nothing else, that they could be happy now. Even if Lily insisted for the moment on putting up a fight.

* * *

><p>Finally, breakfast drew to a close, and the many students in the Great Hall scurried off in all directions for their first classes of the term. Which, for both Severus Snape and Hermione Granger happened to be Potions. A class which, though for slightly different reasons, they both thought they'd enjoy very much.<p>

As it was NEWTS, the overall class size was somewhat smaller. Potions was, of the classes offered, not a favorite of many. Few had an appreciation for the subtle intricacies, the discipline and logic of the art. For sixth year students, of Slytherin, only Avery and Severus were present alongside three Slytherin females who, while Severus held a first name basis, was hardly close to. Lily, of course, was also present. Something Severus was painfully aware of as he walked in. But he steadied himself, trying his best to avoid giving any outward indication of just how unbearable it was to be that close, in the same room, with her, and yet know that never again would their friendship be…

By process of elimination, that left working with Avery. Which was more than fine with him. Of course, he'd give _anything_ to be working with Lily again, like always in past years, but, if it wasn't to be, he might as well not dwell in it. Particularly in potions class. The knife through his heart as she'd first come walking in was pain enough. Thankfully she'd at least had the decency to stand far away with… her own kind.

Which, evidently included Remus Lupin and Hermione Granger. Lovely. _Dumbledore's two favorites_. Out to destroy him. The three made quite a group, didn't they?

Hermione for her part had been deliberately attempting to _not_ catch Snape's gaze at present. It'd already been more than uncomfortable enough, watching him stare her down like that last night, almost predatory. The same way he _always_ had. And so she'd engaged Remus and Lily in what seemed to be a very engaging conversation on the upcoming Quidditch games. Remus had remarked something about it being curious – but good – that Lily actually seemed excited for them this year. So… thought Hermione curiously… Did that mean that in past years Lily had disliked Quidditch? Hermione… supposed in some ways she was the same. She'd never had much personal interest in the sport but… a lot of her friends played, and then there was the whole matter of House pride and…

It was just… an interesting thought. It seemed that she and Lily might have a bit more in common than just being female Gryffindor muggleborn prefects (in her time at least). From first impressions at least, Lily seemed to be fairly studious and intelligent, a bit reserved, slightly impatient with foolery, but good natured after all. Maybe it was a bit vain, but Hermione could definitely think of drawing some parallels there.

But, cutting off Severus's broodings, and Hermione's comparisons, Slughorn addressed the class:

"A very good morning to all of you, and welcome to Advanced Potions. I trust everyone has brought the necessary supplies with them to class this morning?"

Hermione's hand shot up. Damn, this was feeling like déjà vu. "Sir," she began, "I don't have the textbook actually. Dumbledore said… you might have one for me?" She flushed a little bit at the end. If anything, Hermione _hated_ to feel unprepared for class.

"Oh, yes. Very well." Slughorn, said reaching into his desk to retrieve one. "Miss Granger." He added a bit of a smile. "Dumbledore's told me a lot about you already. I'm quite interested to see how you'll do in my class."

"Now then," Slughorn continued, noticing neither the piercing look Snape shot Hermione nor the confident smile she wore in turn. "Today's lesson involves a rather advanced potion. The _Draught of Living Death_…" he said, annunciating with dramatic flair, a slight chuckle at the end. "Now then, can anyone tell me the ingredients to this potion?"

Two hands immediately shot up. Snape's predictably and… Hermione's.

"Ahh yes, Miss Granger?" Slughorn said with a nod.

"Wormwood, asphodel, valerian roots, a sloth's brain, and juice from a sopophorous bean, sir."

"Absolutely right!" Slughorn beamed, "And without even having her textbook in advance like all the other students. Truly brilliant. Five points to Gryffindor!"

Hermione had a rather large grin on her face. Snape was looking murderous.

"Now then," Slughorn continued, "As Miss Granger rightly stated, these are the ingredients necessary for the brewing of the potion. Though I'll warn you, the actual act of brewing is no simple act. Best of luck to all of you."

Snape was glowering. Showing off like that. In potions of all classes. _His_ class. The one he was always the best in. After showing up obviously involved in some scheme of Dumbledore's, practically bragging about that much to the entire class. The nerve of that girl. Typical boneheaded, arrogant Gryffindor prat.

It took a lot of self-discipline to will himself to concentrate on the task at hand. Hermione … might have memorized the answer; or, hell, more likely Dumbledore himself gave it to her in advance, or… It didn't matter. Few if any actually had his aptitude, his theoretical understanding for the art. At best she might have memorized some text out of the book. He… knew better. His potion would prove better and that would be that, he thought slyly, tucking away into a corner to _smash_ the sopophorous bean rather than cut it as the directions had said. Yeah, they'd all see how far her groundless arrogance would get her now…

Hermione for her part had something of a "secret weapon" up her sleeves. She'd … been angry with Harry for using it, reading it, being better than her because of it. But… now she could use it in turn on Snape. And honestly, could one think of a more deserving party? She certainly couldn't. Smiling a bit coyly, she too smashed the bean, extracting superior quality juice. Oh only to wait for the look on Snape's face when _she_ had the best potion in class.

By the end of class, both had ended with stirring their potions seven times counter-clockwise, once clockwise. Almost at the same time, they each raised their hands for Slughorn to observe.

"Heavens, my oh my!" Slughorn had exclaimed, "Never before have I seen a potion more perfect than these two. I swear they're absolutely identical in perfection. I do suspect a single drop of either one would kill us all. Highest praises to both Mr. Snape and Miss Granger. You two truly do have great potential in this field I think. Fifteen points both to Slytherin and Gryffindor!"

Once more, Slughorn failed to notice the absolute venom with which the two of them met one another's eyes.


	5. The Coming Storm

**Author's Note: First of all, I'm EXTREMELY sorry for taking so long in getting this chapter out. This week ended up being a lot more hectic than I'd imagined. In following weeks, I probably should be able to do at least 2-3 chapters a week.**

** duj – Sorry if it's coming across that way. She'll… be different later on, I promise. It's more just a matter of wanting to set up some conflict between them early on. And to be fair, Hermione too is under a LOT of stress, and rather competitive/academic minded. And from her own background, she didn't think the most of Snape. Her opinion WILL start to change once she sees certain events that'll start to occur in the next few chapters.**

** RawenclawBabe – Mmm, agreed. I suppose it's the whole "no counseling in fiction" trope. Frankly I'm quite surprised/horrified by how little Hogwarts seems to do for the psychological wellbeing of about … any of their students, who almost all of them have been through rather a lot. **

**Though, I wouldn't go so far as to call Hermione stupid. She's obviously quite intelligent in terms of her knowledge. But yeah, she does seem to hold a rather more rigid view of the universe; though thankfully that rather changes, at least to some degrees throughout the Deathly Hallows.**

**But yes, Snape is willing – at least in some areas – to "think outside of the box" more than she, or most others would. Which I think is a real credit to his character.**

_September 2__nd__, 1976_

"Hermione, that was _brilliant_! Absolutely brilliant!" Lupin had excitedly exclaimed, as the three Gryffindors were on their way together back to their common room following class. "Did you see the look on Snape's face? Never seen him like that before…! Well, not in_ Potions_ at least. He's usually the best. Looks like Gryffindor might have a fighting chance again. How… how did you do that?" He was nearly beaming by the end.

Neither Remus nor Hermione noticed the rather sad look that suddenly came across Lily Evans's face, though quickly dissipated.

"I… read it in a potions book actually. At my old school." Hermione responded flatly. Well, technically speaking, that was actually true. Somewhat ambiguous use of "old", but otherwise honest.

She almost frowned. Under normal circumstances, there was really nothing Hermione liked better than being recognized for her intelligence, but this was … troubling. She'd… done exactly as that _book_ had said. The one from the "Half-Blood Prince". And it had worked of course. Just like she'd seen it in '96, but… Snape's potion had turned out _exactly_ like hers. Slughorn himself had said that he couldn't even tell them apart. And … that might not have even been hyperbole.

Of course Snape was brilliant at Potions. Even now he'd have to be. Hermione knew that objectively but… it wasn't just a matter of studying the text here. At least not the text of the _normal_ textbook. He knew it. He'd seen it. Somehow, in some way, Snape was connected to that book. The thought of which was quite… disconcerting to say the least. She hadn't been paying attention to his textbook during class of course; the thought hadn't even remotely occurred to her until … Slughorn's comments at the end.

So… did Snape have that textbook before Harry did? Was that why he was so good at potions…? Or… it was an uncomfortable thought, but was he himself the Half-Blood Prince? Maybe that was why the book seemed so… dark. Well, she couldn't know for sure. Not unless she saw his book firsthand of course… Which, she determined, she'd have to do. Well, she didn't _have_ to of course, but… It was important to her, to know. It was a quite horrific thought that _that's _who'd been getting into Harry's head, but if she was to properly plan for the future – if she could even get back there – she'd need to know. Now she just needed to figure out some sort of ruse to look at it. Preferably without drawing too much attention to herself from either the professors or Snape himself. Whatever the circumstances, she'd still prefer to maintain her reputation as a good student, and… Snape already seemed maliciously suspicious enough at her as it was, without her giving him a _reason_ to be so.

She noticed then that Lupin was looking at her expectantly. He… must have asked her something, and she'd been too caught up in her thoughts to notice. Hermione frowned. "Sorry, what was that again?"

"Oh, I was just asking where you'd gone to school before."

It… was an innocent enough question. Remus Lupin certainly wasn't one to act maliciously towards her. Innocent, friendly curiosity nothing more. She'd probably have asked at least as much if suddenly there was a new Gryffindor in her year. But… Dumbledore had already made it adamant; she was to tell no one the actual circumstances of how she'd gotten there.

"Umm," she began, trying to think of how to answer it. As honestly as possible would be best, without actually saying anything, she thought. "I … can't actually tell you sorry. See…" Hermione added a bit of a sad sigh, "Where I'm from, the world was getting increasingly dangerous. Especially for well, muggleborns like me. So I was sent here instead. Thinking it'd be safer. But I was told to tell no one the exact details, because that could put myself or others in danger and…"

Well, most points at least were technically true. The world she was from _was_ quite a dangerous place. And while the Dark Lord and his followers existed now; well, as Hermione understood it, it'd be several years still until the First Wizarding War was at its height. Comparatively speaking, it was … slightly safer in the time she now found herself in. And Dumbledore _did_ say that it would be potentially dangerous to tell anyone she was from the future. So yeah, it wasn't _really_ a lie.

Still though, she felt a bit bad about it. Of the Marauders, from what she'd seen so far at least, Remus seemed the most like herself. The one she thought she could relate best to. And with a terrible secret like this, she wanted desperately to be able to confide in someone but, she couldn't.

Actually, in a weird way, that meant the two of them had yet another thing in common, didn't it? Remus was a werewolf. And while Hermione knew that… obviously Lupin wouldn't know that she knew such; and there'd be no feasible means of her explaining her knowledge if he did. So he too had a secret, one too terrible to tell her; despite on the surface of things, the two of them already seeming to make fair enough friends.

"Alright, sorry I asked." Lupin said, a bit of sadness in his voice; though Hermione wasn't entirely certain if such was because he believed or didn't believe her.

By now they were at the Fat Lady's portrait. "Aperi Januam" Lily spoke for the first time since they'd left potions, quickly heading inside through the corridor as the Fat Lady's portrait swung open, not stopping until she'd entered the Girl's dormitories, ignoring any of those in the Common Room who'd called out to her. Hermione knew better than to follow Lily; there was something about the way she ran off like that that she recognized. She'd done a better job of composing herself but… it was the same sort of sorrow that she'd had before her ill-fated trip here.

"Is something the matter with Lily?" Hermione had asked softly, genuinely concerned now. Well, she knew intuitively that Lily would end up with James. They'd be happy together – at least for a while. So things would improve for a time. And it probably was none of her business but it was just… indirectly, Hermione owed if not her life itself, her entry to the magical world to Lily's sacrifice. If she hadn't died protecting Harry, the Boy who Lived, Voldemort probably would have won. The world wouldn't be a safe place for muggleborns like her. At best, she'd never have gotten her Hogwarts letter. At worst… she didn't want to even think about it. So… if Lily was feeling bad, well, it concerned her. Still though, she knew better than to intervene. If a third party had come up to her in the state she'd been in; she'd only lash out all the more, it'd only make things all the worse. Better for now just to try and understand the situation for what it was.

"Oh…" said Lupin, biting his lip, looking quite uncomfortable. "She's been like that a while. Since late last year at least… Haven't seen it quite this bad though since it first started… "

"Since _what_ first started?"

Hermione had never seen Lupin more nervous before. Just what was going on here?

"Since…" he sighed, not wanting to get into it, but realizing he'd already dug himself too deeply into that pit. "Since Snape, he started treating her particularly cruelly. I mean, he'd never liked Gryffindors or muggleborns in general but to _her_, it was just all the more cruel. She's … a nice girl. And took it worse than most would."

Hermione frowned at the answer. It… didn't tell her the most. Of course Snape hated Gryffindors and muggleborns; that was no real surprise. But why would Snape's actions effect Lily any more than anyone else who fell into such a category? Presumably he was just as hostile towards the Marauders, and Lupin didn't just go off running to _his_ dormitory after potions.

And yes, Lily was a kind person, an incredibly kind person. She _died_ to protect Harry after all. But what did that matter? She also seemed to be of strong character, so it didn't make sense that she'd let Snape – whatever it was he was doing to her – effect her so much.

There was obviously more to the situation than Lupin was letting on. She didn't think he was outright lying to her. Snape obviously had done _something_ to Lily; something terrible. But _what_, and _why?_ Well, not why in general – Snape was a malicious, cruel Slytherin just like all the others of their kind – but why Lily in particular. The thought really was beginning to make her blood boil. If not for Lily's sacrifice, she wouldn't be where she was today. And that hideous, spiteful Snape was going out of his way to hurt her, probably relishing it. As if she needed another reason to absolutely hate him.

If Hermione could, she was going to get to the bottom of this, and get some justice for Lily. It was the absolute least she owed her after all.

* * *

><p>As Snape left Potions, he was absolutely fuming. How could that insolent girl have possibly been able to do that? Slughorn had said they'd been <em>exactly<em> the same. It was almost as if she knew; somehow knew exactly the modifications he'd made. _His_ superior formula. It was beyond suspicion. It was absolute empirical fact now.

That horrid Gryffindor girl, Hermione Granger. She was here, on Dumbledore's orders. Purposefully after him. That little display in class silenced any possible doubt on the matter. She was here, after him. In a way it made sense. Dumbledore had always hated him; not for anything Snape had done initially. Just… for being a Slytherin – well, being an _intelligent_ Slytherin.

Lucius had taken Snape aside in the latter's first year, explained to him where Dumbledore's bias against Gryffindor had derived. Years back, there'd been a Slytherin prefect who'd saved Hogwarts from what would have otherwise meant its destruction. And for his bravery and service to the school, he was honored. Dumbledore, however, who was at the time merely a professor, already had a strong relationship of enmity with this student, and refused to believe that the Slytherin had acted so nobly. Ever since that day a Slytherin was honored, Dumbledore had treated him with absolute cruelty and suspicion.

And that, Lucius had said, was the lesson to be learned. Dumbledore was not a fair man. Even if one in Slytherin did nothing wrong, sought to better themselves, protected others, acted as a better person; even that would not earn his favor. No, on the contrary, the spiteful man would simply despise you all the more for proving the fact that the Slytherins really were, on aggregate, a superior breed. Just like that heroic Slytherin in the past, Snape too had earned Dumbledore's wrath. Just… for being a superior being.

In a lot of ways, Dumbledore reminded Snape of Tobias. A jealous, spiteful being, unjustly put in a position of authority, who used the said power to spread misery to his superiors. He hated them; both of them. And hopefully Lord Voldemort would just hurry up and deal with both of them.

Still, by no means was Dumbledore a stupid man. He was vindictive, petty, malicious, but never stupid. The many, many cruel schemes he'd orchestrated should be evidence enough of both. And this whole business with Hermione just seemed to be the latest of many. Surely by now, Dumbledore had to suspect that the Death Eaters had interest in monitoring the goings on at Hogwarts. And obviously of all Houses, Slytherin would be most … sympathetic to their goals. Of all current Slytherin students, Snape would like to think that he would stand out as the most intelligent, the most competent, the most … logical choice for the position. That was all this was. Simply because he was so intelligent, so competent, and happened to have been sorted into Slytherin instead of Dumbledore's precious Gryffindor, he was hated.

Well, he thought. Like the Slytherin prefect from the past, he wouldn't let Dumbledore win. Dumbledore might have more power in the present than then. And things were accordingly that much worse at Hogwarts; but in the end, that changed nothing. The Dark Lord was more powerful yet, and no one, not even Dumbledore could stop him. By such actions towards those affiliated with the Dark Lord, he was only, in the end, hastening his own demise.

But the question still remained. _How_ did Hermione know his research? Well, the immediate answer was from Dumbledore, obviously. But how did _Dumbledore_ know? Sure he was powerful, sure he was connected, sure he had a vested interest in destroying Snape's life. All of that of course was true, but it still stood that, for the most part, Snape had done his research on his own. No one else should have known. No one except…

It was a horrific thought, but all he could think of. Prior to their devastating falling out at the end of last year… he'd often worked on potions with Lily. Helped her with her own. Shown her his new designs. He'd wanted nothing more than to impress her, to have her think of him as intelligent, powerful. So whenever he'd discovered a superior technique, she'd been the first, and generally _only _person to know. Snape was a very private person after all, and it'd amount to simple idiocy to freely share an advantage he'd worked himself so hard for; but Lily was different.

He'd wanted nothing more than for her to respect him, love him; feel for him what he had for her for so many years. She, in so many ways, was the inspiration for his work in the first place. So it was only right, only just that he shared his knowledge – shared everything – with her.

The end result of all this of course was that, from Slughorn's perspective, Severus and Lily seemed his two best potion students. Normally Snape would be averse to sharing power. Normally he wanted nothing more than to be respected, revered, seen as the best, the most powerful; if for nothing more than to make up for the years of being treated as worthless, like nothing. But again, Lily was different than everyone else. Out of everyone in this miserable world, she was the only one other than himself that he really had cared about. So seeing her praised, successful, happy. That meant the world to him. A simple smile and "Thank you, Sev" after class was worth _everything._

He … couldn't believe it. Couldn't believe that Lily had fallen so far to… betray him like this. Yes, he'd hurt her. And he felt absolutely terrible about it, even if she coldly refused to see it. But he'd been her best, closest friend, done everything for her, for years. How could she possibly sell him out to Dumbledore – a man who wanted to destroy him – like this over a few words.

_Gryffindor_ had done this to her. Turned his best friend in the world into a monster. Still, he couldn't hate her. Even if his worst fears were true; even if she was indirectly working with Dumbledore in all this. Somewhere, deep down inside, she was still the wide-eyed girl who'd laid down under those trees beside him, talking excitedly about Hogwarts. Dumbledore, the other Gryffindors, they'd all fed her lies for so many years. Confused her, terrified her. Beneath it all, the kindhearted friend he'd always had was still there, buried however deep. And… he'd save her.

He'd destroy Dumbledore and Hermione, expose their plan to the world. When it was public, out there, just how terrible, just how heinous they were… Lily was intelligent. She'd see reason. She'd realize how what she'd done had hurt her one true friend, just like he'd hurt her. Then they could finally apologize and reconcile, and all would be well.

Indeed. Dumbledore's plans had twisted Lily. And for that, they were even more unforgivable. If it was the last thing he could do, he would unravel Dumbledore's schemes, get his vengeance. For … Lily's sake as much as anything else. If he could still save her, he would. For the sake of her love and friendship for so many years. It was the absolute least he owed her.

* * *

><p>It hadn't been until after lunch that they next ran into one another. Rosier had been prattering on and on like some damned idiot about how he'd hexed some first year Gryffindor's books so they wouldn't open. Alright, fine, so the mental image was a bit amusing. And sure, anything that hurt Gryffindor in some manner or another was good. But it just seemed petty, stupid. Certainly nothing to go on and on about when there was so much broken in the world.<p>

Lunch was nearly over, and Severus was becoming quite irate, not so much at Rosier's actions as just… a spiteful anger that someone so … less competent, less worthy than himself, could be so happy when he felt so miserable. Yeah, sure, in whatever loose sense of the word existed, Rosier was his "friend", but at the end of the day, Snape had always seen him as inferior. Rosier couldn't invent magic, he barely could pass his classes. Just a stupid brute who happened to be pureblooded and had most of the world handed to him on a silver platter. Sure their interests aligned in supporting the Dark Lord, but for _very_ different reasons.

"I'm going to go get books for next class…" Snape had said with a sigh, getting up and waving the others away slightly. And without another word or the slightest look back started his march out of the Great Hall.

He'd looked straight ahead the whole time, his mind elsewhere, making a deliberate attempt to focus precisely on whatever particular bit of the corridor happened to be right in front of him. Snape was barely out of the Great Hall when suddenly, someone collided with him. Evidently, also watching where she was going, also in a hurry to leave.

His potions book fell out of his hands, and he muttered a few general obscenities under his breath.

"Sorry." The other person had muttered.

In an instant, he recognized the voice. Hermione Granger. The two suddenly met each other's eyes with a quite sour expression, and rushed to pick up the textbook off the floor. To Snape's extreme derision, it had fallen closer to Hermione, and so she seized it, pouring through its contents. Furiously, Snape grasped her arm, trying to retrieve his book.

As if it couldn't get any worse a sudden, mocking voice came from behind the two of them.

"What's the matter, _Sev_? Don't want to share your book with a Gryffindor anymore?"

He'd know that horrid voice anywhere. It was James.


	6. The Two Duels

**Author Notes: Thank you so much for the reviews again everyone; sorry again for taking so long in writing this chapter. I've already started writing the next one partly in advance, so hopefully it won't be as long next time around. Sorry.**

** duj – Well, I meant 'lawful' in the broader sense of supporting the Ministry against Voldemort. And … agreed on Snape's book. But, that particular bit was from Hermione's point of view, and she doesn't really have the fullest picture to work with at that point.**

**xitsrealforusx – Thank you soooo much for reading/reviewing my story. Means a lot coming from someone as good/established as you.**

**Also, to all my readers, I DEFINITELY recommend reading xitsrealforusx's SnapexLily story "Always". Very, very well done. The best of its sort I read.**

_September 2nd, 1976_

With a sudden, angry jerk, Snape wrested the book away from Hermione's grasp, spinning around to face James Potter… and evidently the blood-traitor Black beside him, Lupin and Pettigrew some few paces behind them. Worst of all, the first two of them had their wands out, threateningly. Perfect. They were quite "brave" when it was four on one… Or _five_ now…

"Now now," Black jeered, stepping forward a bit closer, "You know it's not nice not to share. And you used to be so good at it."

"I don't have time for this…" Snape muttered almost under his breath, feigning indignation rather than anything else, his own hand reaching into his robes to grasp his wand, but not holding it out quite yet. This was an extremely delicate situation. The last thing he wanted to do was show any signs of weakness, particularly in front of the new Gryffindor girl who he already despised. But, if it came to a fight, he'd be hopelessly outnumbered. Even if he was a superior duelist, it wouldn't account for much like this. He couldn't be deferent obviously, but he couldn't afford to provoke a fight – not that their lot ever needed much provocation.

He turned his back on them, walking away deliberately, as if to demonstrate that their words had no effect on him whatsoever. Of course they did; the cowards were mocking to his face that love of his life hated him; how else was one to feel. But he wasn't going to give those vermin the satisfaction of seeing any such weakness. They'd just be all the more vicious for it after all. Subhuman, bloodthirsty animals.

Snape had only gotten a few paces away, however, before he suddenly felt himself yanked up into the air by his ankles, courtesy of his own spell.

"Leaving without saying goodbye, are we, _Sev_? That's not polite either. Tisk, tisk. No wonder she's not your friend anymore…" James had said with a rather cruel laugh, quickly followed by all the Gryffindors present.

Well, all, notably, except one. Hermione had been watching the scene unfolding before her eyes in increasing bewilderment. _Gryffindors_ tormenting _Slytherins_? Had the world suddenly fell upside-down? She couldn't believe it; couldn't believe that Harry's own father or Sirius Black of all people could be so… malicious. For almost no reason. She had no trouble believing that Snape probably wasn't innocent himself, probably went around causing trouble for others at times, but that still came nowhere near excusing _this_.

Horrifying of a thought as it was, James Potter's actions almost reminded her of something Draco Malfoy might do. It was sickening. Sure, maybe Snape caused them trouble at times; but here and now, he wasn't doing anything to them. He was just … trying to get away. Hermione had never imagined she'd be taking sides with a Slytherin against "fellow" Gryffindors, Snape least of all; but she still had her principles that she'd have to abide with.

"Let him go!" she demanded sharply, taking a step towards James.

Yet instead of backing down, James seemed … all the more amused by Hermione's protestations, chuckling a bit. "What's this, déjà vu, hmm, _Sev_?"

"I said let him go!" Hemione shook her head disgustedly, still in disbelief that "fellow" Gryffindors could act so… vilely.

"Fine, fine. Spoil our fun…" James shook his head in playful derision. "Looks like you're in luck, Sev. Another _muggleborn_ running to your rescue…"

With a flick of his wrist, James muttered "_Liberacorpus_", causing Snape to fall to the ground with a rather hard thud, his potions book falling out of his bag.

"C'mon guys, let's get out of here!" James exclaimed, "Don't want to be late for class on _his_ account."

And with that, Snape watched the cowards run off, not wanting to face him now that he potentially had use of his wand again.

"Are you alright?" Hermione frowned, offering Snape a hand to help him up.

"_Don't_ touch me!" he exclaimed sharply, grabbing his book and pushing himself back up to his feet, brushing off his uniform. Desperately trying to salvage what tiny modicum of dignity remained. His eyes met Hermione's for a moment. She looked a bit … indignant at that. As if she'd expected him to be grateful or…

Fine, he didn't honestly know _what_ to think… It was absolutely bewildering. As if a law of nature had been broken or something. Gryffindors _hated_ Slytherins. That was just how the universe functioned. A Gryffindor would sooner leave a Slytherin to die than come to their aid.

Well, fine, last year, _she_ had come to his aid – in a scenario almost identical to this one. Same stolen spell and everything. A painful reminder of that. But that was different; they'd been friends before Hogwarts, _best friends_ and… even _Lily_ had eventually succumbed to the dictates of Gryffindors hating Slytherins. If even Lily couldn't be trusted, there was no possible way he could conceive that Hermione – someone presumably working with Dumbledore – could have anything but malicious intent.

Still though, her motivations eluded him. They seemed on the surface of things to almost to suggest that, despite being a Gryffindor, she had some degree of humanity to her. But that couldn't be it; he wouldn't be foolish enough to ever believe the hideous lie of a "good Gryffindor" ever again. She had to have some ulterior, sinister motivation to her seeming kindness.

Actually, it made perfect sense if he thought about it. Just like James said – she was acting like Lily had. Probably deliberately. Trying to remind him of that terrible day; to torment him far more than any spell ever could. True, Hermione hadn't been there the last year. So she hadn't witnessed the events firsthand. But she was with the Marauders; it was obvious enough that they must have told her as much. Hell, the whole thing started to make sense as some malicious plan of theirs.

And beyond that perhaps, to try to gain some tiny fraction of his trust, make him see her as anything less than a complete and utter monster that all Gryffindors were, and then at some critical point down the line, betray whatever slight trust he gave her, putting him in an even worse state. It was entirely cruel, twisted. But this was the Marauders who were concerned; it certainly made more sense than the alternative. There were a few flaws with his theory that came to mind, but he cast them aside. Anything else was … unthinkable.

Awkwardly, he realized, Hermione was still standing there as he mulled over these uncomfortable thoughts in his head. Well, he'd have to do something to deal with this … situation… His coal black eyes meeting hers once more, he finally addressed her again. "This," he stated coldly, in a steady of a tone as he could muster. "Changes _nothing_…"

And with that, he turned and walked off. Anywhere to be away from her. It was just too … conflicting to deal with right now.

Hermione stood there for a moment, still somewhat dazed herself at what had just happened. She'd really just taken sides with a Slytherin against Gryffindors – those that she thought so highly of moments before. And now … didn't know what to think. She couldn't help but feel a bit indignant at Snape's reaction as well. Sure the two of them clearly disliked each other but… she had just saved him after all from what could have ended up being a lot more humiliating. Though… perhaps to a Slytherin, being "saved" by a Gryffindor was the worst humiliation of all.

She… hadn't thought of that. Maybe she should have handled the situation somewhat more delicately. But still, in some senses he "owed" her, for what she just did. And even if they otherwise hated each other, was it really that much to ask for him to be civil, at least give a begrudging "thanks" or… Well, perhaps that was far too much to expect from a Slytherin…

* * *

><p>As … uncomfortable as it probably was for all parties involved, Defense Against the Dark Arts was the next class for Snape. And the Marauders. And… Hermione. Once more, as a NEWTS level class, the class size was rather smaller, only making things all the more awkward.<p>

The only slight consolation Snape had was the fact that all four of his dorm mates – Avery, Wilkes, Rosier, and Mulciber – were enrolled in the class as well. Though it often seemed they had little interest or competence in academic matters, rather to Snape's own derision, anything involving the Dark Arts – even under the pretext of "defense" against it – seemed a rather large exception.

Though, as was almost ubiquitous for them, they always seemed to have a knack for bothering Snape when it was least desired.

"So, Snape." Mulciber began, "Think this professor will be any better than last year's? Hell, the old wench almost made this stuff boring… And always left out the good parts…"

"How could I possibly know…?" Snape remarked drily. Really, in any sense of things, it seemed a stupid question to him. Like… every year in the past, the incoming DADA professor was new. Severus hadn't even heard the man's name mentioned before the Welcoming Feast – how was he possibly supposed to know how the professor would teach class. Idiotic. He had little patience for idiocy at the best of times, and now was certainly _not_ the best of times.

"Oh, well, I hope he is…" Mulciber continued, apparently missing the slight venom in Snape's tone. "'Course it wouldn't take much after her…"

"Any idea how she got sacked?" Avery added, "I mean, I'm glad of course. Hell, I'd have done it myself."

"Spell gone bad I think…" Snape muttered, repeating the supposed reason for Ms. Cuttington – their past professor's sudden abandonment of her post... Were these four really too dense to notice that each and every DADA they'd ever had ended up – for some reason or another – leaving after only teaching for a single year? Well, he supposed they weren't the _only_ ones ignorant on the matter; most of the school seemed almost unaware of the thought. That each and every year without fail, the DADA Professor, and _only_ the DADA professor met some untimely end or another. It was too suspicious, too much to be mere coincidence.

"What a dunce. I'm not surprised. She was so terrible at her own subject. Serves her right for being such a conceited old hag. Swear she hated me anyhow." Rosier added.

Snape couldn't help but see the irony in Rosier insulting someone else's intellect – or devotion to their subject at least – but, to an extent he had a point. Professor Cuttington had been… fairly bad.

"So what do you think our new professor, 'Glenkok' was it, will be like?" Rosier continued, contorting his face at the professor's name. "I do hope he's not as much of a bore as Cuttington, or an obvious muggle-lover like Greene, or gives odious amounts of homework like…"

"And let us hope…" a sudden, rather cold voice from behind the five Slytherins came, "That not all of my students are so crude and unintelligent as yourself. Five points from Slytherin, and many more to come if this foolish lad doesn't watch his tongue."

Rosier bit his lip, the other four – particularly Snape, shooting daggers at him through their eyes. To the Marauders however, the situation must have seemed absolutely hilarious, as they burst out into a round of laughter at the Slytherins' expense.

"Is something funny?" Gyllenkrok asked sternly, stepping towards the Gryffindors.

The four Marauders shook their heads, still sniggering a bit to one another.

"Good." The professor replied with a slow nod. Without a further word, he made his way to the front of the classroom. "My name…" he began, "As obviously there are those among us with too poor of memories to remember it from Professor Dumbledore's introduction is Argentum Gyllenkrok. _Professor _Gyllenkrok to any of you. The Dark Arts are a mystifying and powerful thing; ever changing. At once nebulous and overpowering. If … any of you hope to have any chance of surviving to my age in this world – a prospect that seems quite unlikely for most here… then you will pay special heed to my every word.

These are dark times we live in. There's no denying it. Only a fool hides his head in the sand and thinks by doing so he can avoid the enemy which pursues him. Only the lowest, worst of imbeciles would pretend otherwise.

Dumbledore, as you may know, requested specifically that I be the one to teach this subject, in such dark times as we all now find ourselves – so that perhaps, the worthy among you, might, if you hold any competence whatsoever, hold some chance of survival.

As, you are probably all unaware, unlike yourselves, this is my first time setting foot in Hogwarts. Not merely as a professor, but _ever_… I received my own … extensive knowledge on the subject of the Dark Arts at Durmstrang Academy. The methods and teaching of the subject here are grossly naïve and beneath the standards held there; and so, I have been sent in attempts to … raise the standards."

A punctuated silence followed; none of the students dared to speak. If not even for Gyllenkrok's words, everything else about him – his stern appearance, his posture, his tone of voice – all of it was more than enough to coerce even the Marauders into a sort of stunned silence.

Durmstrang Academy? It wasn't a place often talked about but… it had a reputation. It was said, much as Gyllenkrok alluded to that their… study of the Dark Arts was a lot more … comprehensive and "hands-on" than that of Hogwarts. That students actively learned the Dark Arts and were encouraged to practice them. A daunting prospective probably for most Hogwarts students. But though silent, Severus's eyes glistened with anticipation. Any indignation at Slytherin losing five points before was far, far overshadowed by the thought of how DADA would certainly be. Actually learning the Dark Arts – even slightly. That… would be absolutely fascinating.

"Now…" Gyllenkrok continued, breaking the chilling silence. "Let's see what I have to work with. It's my understanding that your education in the subject has been quite… below standard to this point. I'd be surprised if even one or two of you held any actual potential in this field."

Severus was undaunted by such words. He already knew he was far, far more competent than most in the Dark Arts. And actually being encouraged, recognized for such. It was… everything he wanted. Well, almost… But Lily could still change her mind in time. Perhaps if a professor, someone in the establishment, recognized him positively for such; it … might help to change her opinion. Possibly… Alright, so it was a fool's hope; but it was at least … something.

Hermione was understandably wary, like most of the other students; actually forgetting her earlier… incident with the Marauders enough to shoot them all an uneasy glance. Surely there had to be some reason to the matter. Dumbledore wouldn't actually have them _learning_ the Dark Arts themselves would he? It… was probably just rhetoric on the professor's part. His own, rather dark, way of getting them motivated to the subject. Still, she couldn't say she liked the idea of it, even as rhetoric… at all…

"Pair up!" Gyllenkrok ordered sharply. Instinctively, Snape turned towards Avery; Wilkes towards Mulciber; James towards Sirius; Pettigrew towards Lupin. Hermione and Rosier of their respective Houses looking around awkwardly – certainly not wanting each other.

"No, no!" Gyllenkrok exclaimed, waving his wand. "This won't do at all! Do you really expect that in a fight involving the Dark Arts, you'd be facing a comrade? Even you all can't possibly be that dense. As… I understand it, there's something of a rather strong rivalry here between Gryffindor and Slytherin, is there not? Let's use that for now." With a curt gesture of his wand, Gyllenkrok pointed between a Slytherin and a Gryffindor.

Avery was to face Potter, Wilkes to face Black, Mulciber to face Lupin, Rosier to face Pettigrew, and finally … probably the most uneasy pair of all, Snape to face Granger.

"Good." Gyllenkrok said sharply. "Now, time for a bit of a duel between Houses. The better House gets fifteen points." At this, Rosier already raised his wand, Pettigrew almost cowering. "Not so fast!" Gyllenkrok demanded sharply, grabbing Rosier's wrists. "Rules now are in order. They won't be in reality of course, and for that I admire your spirit but… this is merely to gauge your abilities."

"Firstly, as I'd rather not lose half my class on the first day, however incompetent they might be, spells are limited to 'expelliarmus', 'petrificus totalus', and 'stupefy'. For today…"

"Now, of course, that in itself is nothing remarkable. Something I'd expect of a First Year, at least at Durmstrang. As… the few of you who might have actually done the reading for today's class will know, our first matter of study is on non-verbal magic. As such, this is to be a non-verbal duel, to gauge your competency or… very well lack thereof. One at a time, down the line, begin!" He ended, pointing to Avery and Potter.

The first two rounds did not go well for Slytherin at all. Within seconds, Avery was on his face and Wilkes on his back, Potter and Black beaming triumphantly. Fortune changed however at Mulciber and Lupin's duel. Both struggled to cast a working spell at the other, but finally after nearly a minute, Mulciber disarmed Lupin. Rosier merely had to flick his wand – possibly without even trying to cast a spell – and Pettigrew nervously dropped his own wand, his lip quivering.

"Very well." Gyllenkrok nodded. "Seems it's two to each House thus far. Let's see how the last two handle this. Your House's fates rest on your performance. Begin."

The two bowed quickly to one another, Snape raising his wand almost as he came up. _Petrificus totalus_ he thought with all his mind – a spell he knew far, far too well, verbal or otherwise – shooting the spell's energy directly at Hermione. Hermione for her part was just as quick with a nonverbal _expelliarmus_, and both leapt to the side, easily dodging the other's attack.

Snape glowered at her. Everything was riding on this duel. Slytherin House Points – sure. His dignity after what had happened earlier, much more importantly. But even more than that, a chance to impress Professor Gyllenkrok; someone with actual knowledge and experience in a field he found so fascinating. Someone with an … enlightened view on the matter probably. And… perhaps through him, some small chance of gaining Lily's favor again. Of legitimizing his stance. Whatever tiny favor Hermione had done for him earlier – for reasons he couldn't comprehend – was absolutely irrelevant.

Hermione was… equally intent on winning. What Gyllenkrok was doing was intense… More so than what she'd seen from most any other professor. Rivaling perhaps even an adult Snape. But she wasn't about to back down from a challenge.

The two scrambled to turn to face one another again, their spells colliding again and again with one another in the air. By now, most of the class was watching absolutely intently. Even Gyllenkrok seemed genuinely interested in the two of them.

After four or five rounds, both checking the other's attack, Gyllenkrok waved his hand for them to stop. "Well done…" he nodded slowly. "Better than I'd have expected from _Hogwarts_ students. Seems I do have some potential to work with here after all, if only in these two… Very well, fifteen points to each House, and for your sake, Snape, I'll forget the foolish words of your friend earlier and spare the five points from Slytherin."

"Class dismissed." He stated, waving the students away, "Though I'd like a brief word with Mr. Snape and Miss Granger in my office for now…" motioning for the two of them to follow.


	7. Lily's Tears

**Author's notes: Eesh. Sorry for not updating this sooner. Until today, I've had a pretty hectic life. And also had to fight writer's block over the weekend in what time I had then… Sorry, I'll try to be more active in the future.**

** duj – Honestly, I don't think the most of Dumbledore in all instances either; but I'd still take him over an organization as corrupt and self-serving as the Ministry any day. Just my opinion though.**

**As for Hermione – again, it's going to be a somewhat gradual process as she gains more information on what's going on. She was coming in initially with a sort of "Gryffindor = good, Slytherin = bad" mindset, and that's what's being slowly changed in this. **

**As per Gyllenkrok's name – I'm going with the theory that Durmstrang is in Northern Europe. Thus I gave him a (real world) Norse-based surname.**

**For the dueling bit. You might be right. Then again, she was a founder of DA, and has traded fire with actual, adult Death Eaters by this point. **

**As per her being the only female in class. Well, again, this was only the Gryffindors and Slytherins; no Ravenclaws or Hufflepuffs in the picture. I could see the Marauders wanting to take it – well, two of them at least, and the other two would probably be dragged along, because that's how they would tend to be I'd imagine. Lily – just for plot reasons I really didn't want her in there; and she seems pretty averse to anything to do with the Dark Arts. The other Gryffindor girls aren't known all that well. I guess I could have put some in, but I was trying to ensure an equal number of Slytherins and Gryffindors so the scene would work. And well, it should be obvious enough why the mentioned Slytherins joined I think.**

** Everyone - Thank you all very much for the reviews. Sorry once more for the delays. I'll try and be a little faster in the future; can't entirely promise though. Also, I've started writing another fanfiction, essentially a narrative of Eileen Prince's backstory, that I sort of got inspired to start writing by writing this. It only has a first chapter – in some senses, an overview of the story as a whole. If anyone would like to look it over so I can see if there's any interest or not, it'll probably be the determining factor in how much effort I put into updating that one. In any case, this fanfic will still be my primary one. Long AN, sorry…**

_September 2nd, 1976_

Gyllenkrok didn't speak again until the three of them were in his office behind a closed door, Snape and Hermione trading a single wary glance at one another. At least for once, both were in much the same situation; they really didn't know what to expect.

"That…" Gyllenkrok began, after a moment or so's pause. "Was rather impressive. I think the two of you might be what I'm looking for…" he frowned, "I don't know what Dumbledore was thinking, sending me here. A lost cause if I've ever seen one with most of them… But he seems to think you lot have potential, and maybe, just maybe with the right guidance might perhaps hope to survive the darkness to come. Well, we'll see I suppose."

"Dumbledore has asked of me – in addition to instructing Defense Against the Dark Arts, to oversee the formation of a new organization on campus – Dueling Club as he called it. Still nowhere near as … complete a training as I'd like to give; but this is _Hogwarts_, not Durmstrang, isn't it…?" He sounded almost resentful at the task.

"In any such case… I need House Team Captains before I can proceed. Seventh Years here of course are too busy studying for their NEWTS to devote time for the more… practical matters, so they're out of the question. Anyone still in their OWL classes wouldn't very likely be capable enough of my standards. So that leaves Sixth Years the only remaining choice. The lesson today – as you may have deduced – was a test of your aptitude. I haven't seen the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs yet – though I've heard much … better things about the former than the latter…"

"Regardless… Though, with such basic spells, it's relatively difficult to fully gauge your potential. Of the students I've observed this far… the two of you seem … the closest to the level of competence that I'd like to see. I take it you're interested…?" It wasn't even so much a question as just an expectation, a statement of presumed fact.

Well, aside from Gyllenkrok's … backhanded at best compliments, Snape's attention was rather fixated. It was a … fascinating idea really. An actual chance to practice spellwork in a somewhat more realistic setting. A way to humiliate – maybe even hurt Gryffindors – one not involving arrogant prats flying around on brooms chasing a golden ball – something that had real world applications to his own future. In some ways, it was even practice for becoming a Death Eater, joining the Dark Lord. It'd give him a chance to become better skilled not just in the theoretical knowledge behind the spells, but in actually using them in real time against an opponent, in a situation that simulated at least life and death. Training on his own, in private was certainly beneficial, but in some ways, this would be more so. Even if Dumbledore only allowed the use of… limited spells, it'd still be something. Still be a means of demonstrating and improving his talent.

Beyond that, he could be finally recognized publicly for some talent of his own. Sure, he was Lucius's contact at Hogwarts. Sure there was a degree of de facto status there. But by the very nature of what it was, it was nothing he could ever explicitly admit to. If anyone – outside Slytherin at least – had any definitive proof that he actually was working for the Death Eaters, he'd be expelled – at best. It was a rather frustrating irony that for all the power, all the prestige he'd attained, outside his House, it did him absolutely no good.

Now though he actually had a chance. To… be given a position of prestige. Be recognized for his talent. Deal with Gryffindors and practice to become a Death Eater at the same time. And be rewarded for doing it. Maybe… even if he did well enough, have some tiny modicum of hope of getting Lily's attention once more. It was all… almost too good to be true. It hadn't even taken him a moment of thought before he nearly blurted out.

"Very interested, Professor." Snape nodded, trying to make himself not look _too_ eager.

"Good." Gyllenkrok nodded curtly. "And you, Miss Granger?"

Hermione for her part was a bit more hesitant about the whole thing. Hell, she saw the advantage in actual practical use of DADA. She'd been one of the founders of Dumbledore's Army precisely because Umbridge had been… about as opposite from Gyllenkrok as possible on that point. But, in his case… Hermione didn't entirely know what to think of him. She'd never heard the name before so… presumably he wasn't someone who'd go on to be a Death Eater. Well, not a major one at least, as his name was never mentioned in any of the history books she'd ever read.

And… Dumbledore himself was evidently behind the idea. So it was probably fine just… bad memories from … Dueling Clubs that wouldn't even exist for more than another fifteen years. Well, hopefully at least, she'd learned enough since then that she wouldn't end up choked from behind by some Slytherin who looked almost half-troll and…

But, if she was entirely honest with herself, it was the man… rather than the club itself, that made her so wary. Maybe she was just upset at the way he'd demeaned her, assumed her to be useless just because of what school she happened to attend. Well, he'd made her and … him… exceptions to that apparently now, but it was still the principle, and…

Honestly, Gyllenkrok seemed… rather dark… Maybe it wasn't the fairest thing in the world; just based off intuition, first impressions, and her general understanding of Durmstrang – though fine, Krum had been nice enough, if a bit dense. But at any rate, there was something deeply unsettling about the man. If Dumbledore himself had selected him, that seemed to lead some credence, but… Dumbledore had selected Quirrel and Barty Crouch Jr. - albeit unknowingly – and… well, the other Sixth Year in the room with her. And look what great character _they_ all seemed to have…

Well… she supposed, if she hadn't heard about him… he couldn't be too horrible. Or at least failed at whatever it was he tried to do. So… it was probably alright to put a certain level of trust in him. Besides, if he was actually honest. Well, he certainly wouldn't do anything to her if there were truly no other Gryffindors of suitable talent.

"Yeah…" Hermione nodded slowly. "I'll do it."

* * *

><p>Hermione's head felt as if it were spinning at dinner that evening, now that she finally had time to process it all. She tried her best joining in on the conversation going on around her – opting this time to sit with the Gryffindor girls after… what had happened earlier – but wasn't really succeeding well at it. She still wasn't certain what the Marauders might think of her now or even… what she thought of them… She was still somewhat incredulous that Harry's own father, and Sirus Black and Remus Lupin – whom as adults she'd thought of as some of the greatest, bravest individuals alive – that they could be so petty, so cruel. Almost like she'd expect of a <em>Slytherin<em> in her own time…

It wasn't as if she thought much of Snape. In some senses, she'd dealt with him just as long as they did – as a professor, not even a peer. So she had no impressions he was an innocent victim in all of this, but still… It was unbecoming of what a Gryffindor was supposed to be to act so… vile. Even if there was standing animosity in general between them, well, that was one thing, but… they seemed to be going out of their way to initiate things, antagonize him when he just wanted to be left alone…

Was that it then? Why the older Snape seemed so bitter against Gryffindor? Because the Marauders had acted like this towards them…? And seemed to hate Harry so much simply because he looked like his father – who seemed to be the ringleader. That… was patently unfair, unjust. Hermione for one didn't want to be judged based on their actions simply because they happened to share a House. Whatever her, Harry, and Ron's faults they… generally didn't go around starting trouble. Granted, they'd found more than their fair share of it, but at least – in most cases – it was someone else initiating it. But in any case, Snape's… hatred for Gryffindor seemed almost to make slightly more sense now. Even if she couldn't agree with the reasoning behind it, she thought she at least understood why.

Still though, back to Snape himself. Again it wasn't like he was innocent. Like Lupin had said – the one Marauder she still had some degree of respect left for, at least in their present time – he'd been acting cruelly towards everyone. And done something to Lily in particular. _That_ enraged her. Not enough to condone what the Marauders had done, but… She wanted to get to the bottom of it. Had to. There were few people in the world that Hermione respected more than Lily Potter. Or, Evans now… Right, she'd have to get used to that…

Actually, speaking of Lily – where was she? Though Hermione was sitting where the Gryffindor girls tended to, the Sixth Year female prefect was nowhere to be found. She'd been so… distracted before that she hadn't even noticed it…

"Have… have you seen Lily?" Hermione asked the Gryffindor sitting across from her, who'd introduced herself earlier as Mary MacDonald. Trying not to sound _too_ concerned, pass it off as casual…

"Oh, yeah. Her…." Mary frowned. "She's sick or something I heard. Still up in the dorm I think and…"

"Oh, thanks." Hermione nodded softly. "I, uhh… hope she feels better soon…" Somehow, Hermione knew it wasn't a physical sickness. Just what had Snape _done_ to her…?

"Look, uhh, I'm done eating…" Hermione started – actually, she'd been so distracted she'd barely touched her food. "Going to finish up my homework. See you later, alright?"

"Sure…" Mary had nodded, not thinking much of anything over it.

With that, Hermione set of, and began to march straight out of the Great Hall towards the Gryffindor Dormitories. Lupin seemed to notice and tried to get her attention, but she waved him off, singleminded in going and seeing Lily and finding out what was going on. A few minutes or so later, she found herself once more in front of the Fat Lady, muttering "Aperi Januam" then strolling inside.

Quietly, she made her way up the stairs to the Gryffindor girls dormitory, cringing somewhat at the noise that the door made creaking open.

A certain red-haired Prefect inside whipped her head around suddenly. She was trying to hide it, but there were tears in her eyes. "What do _you_ want?" Lily muttered, almost accusingly.

"Sorry Lily, I just finished eating, and thought I'd come back to do homework…"

"Don't lie to me…" she snapped.

"Lily, what's wrong…?" Hermione frowned, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"You… Why do you have to be so good at potions…?"

Hermione was admittedly bewildered at that particular lashing out. Why was potions of all things relevant? Well, she saw the indirect relevance to Snape – if he was doing something. But why would being good at potions matter itself? Unless Lily and Snape had been rivals in it before or… No, that didn't even make any real sense…

She couldn't really think of much of anything to say to that, but seeing Lily like this, perhaps exacerbated by something she'd unknowingly done. Alright, she still wasn't fully sure what she'd done but… maybe using the information in that book; showing off like that … had been a bad idea after all… It wasn't just her and Snape in the class after all, and that had been really quite … selfish in hindsight.

"You just had to rub it in, didn't you?" Lily continued, " ' Oh, you and Snape are the absolute best potions students I've ever seen in my life. No one else could ever be as good as them…' "

"I… I didn't mean to cause trouble, Lily…" Hermione looked down, biting her lip. Just what had she done though? Hermione didn't really imagine Lily the type to get _this_ worked up over grades. Even Hermione herself wouldn't be _this_ upset over a professor praising someone else's work for once.

"So… you're good at potions…?" Hermione offered. "Maybe we could work on it together or…"

"Of course I'm not good at potions! Not on my own at least…! Just… ugggh…!" Lily groaned, Hermione obviously having - albeit unknowingly – said about the worst possible thing in response. "Look, I know you weren't here last year and everything but… It's just … touchy for me… I'm sorry…" Lily sighed sadly. "I know it's not your fault. I can't blame you just for being good at a subject I'm not, but… it hurts… What happened… And… a lot happened today to remind me of it…"

Hermione, though desperately wanting to know just what had happened figured better than to press the issue any further. If anything, her attempts at comforting Lily were just making her feel all the worse.

"Sorry Lily, I didn't realize… Honestly… If… there's anything I can do, to help you feel better, just please let me know, and…"

"Thank you…" Lily sniffled. "But there's nothing to do about it. He chose his path, and I chose mine… That's just how life is sometimes…"

Once more, Hermione had to suppress the strongest desire to question Lily further about … what she meant. That was certainly a rather cryptic way of stating things. Who chose what path…?

"Well," Hemione said softly, "If you ever need someone to talk to… I'm always willing to listen."

Lily nodded slowly. "Thank you… I … don't think I'm ready to talk to anyone about this right now but, if the time comes… "

"When it comes, I'll be there."


	8. The Midnight Duel

**Author's Note: I **_**think**_** – can't promise obviously – that fairly soon, I'll be rather freer, able to update more regularly than I've been doing so. Sorry for the relatively slow pace of updates this far…**

** duj – I actually rather agree. Though, I think a lot of it honestly derives from her socialization, those that the structure of the school, the dynamics of the Houses and all keeps her around. That sort of thing subtly changed her mindset over time – well, both of theirs I suppose to be fair – and drove them apart. Actually something I'll be touching on somewhat later on. As with anything though, it's all a matter of one's point of view I suppose.**

** Nutters4Potter – Aye. Well, I suppose I haven't really devoted much time to her interactions with the Gryffindor girls (other than Lily obviously); the Marauders are … fairly interested in her. But yeah, maybe I'll add some of that in to the story itself where the arc allows for it. Thanks for the suggestion.**

**And once more, thank you VERY much to all of my faithful subscribers/reviewers. You're the inspiration to keep me writing this.**

_September 2__nd__, 1976_

"So what'd you and Gyllen talk about after class?" The other four were already badgering Severus with questions nearly the instant he entered their shared dormitory. "And what'd _she_ have to do with it...?"

"Dueling club," Snape replied drily waved it off wearily. Already the conversation was too draining. He wasn't even sure why. Normally he'd love to relish in his newfound position of respect and power but… he just felt … off… "Some new club they're starting here. We both got picked as team captains for our Houses."

"Oh?" Avery asked, sound rather disappointed. "That's it…?"

"Yes, that's _it_…" What an idiotic question. What possibly more would he expect? Dumbledore had hired Gyllenkrok – and even if he seemed … refreshingly better than any DADA Professor they'd ever had before, that was still the case. Even with their apparent disagreements on some issues – possibly even thinly veiled contempt on Gyllenkrok's part towards some of Dumbledore's… philosophy; well, Snape could hope at least – in his position, Gyllenkrok couldn't do too much.

"Oh. We were hoping he'd have you two duel to the death or something… So you could get rid of that filthy little…"

"No…" Snape cut in sharply, not wanting to hear Avery finish… _that_… He passed it off well enough as genuine contempt. "Though I admit that would be enjoyable, I don't think the school administration would think much of that, now would they…?"

"What the hell is up with her anyway?"

"Isn't it obvious…?" Snape replied drily. "Have we ever had a 'new student' before, in all the years we've been here? And the way _Dumbledore_ introduced her…" a strong loathing in his voice at mentioning the older wizard's name, "It's obvious to anyone with the slightest bit of intellect that she's working with him… What for, I can't exactly say at the moment. But, I presume… Dumbledore suspects us to be working in line with the Dark Lord. No definitive proof of course – I've been careful enough there – or he'd have certainly expelled us all years ago. So, growing frustrated with such, he brings her into the picture. To infiltrate, spy on us… Might not even be coincidence the she was the best duelist among the Gryffindors, so we'd be House Captains together…"

"Want us to deal with her, Snape?" Rosier offered, putting a fist in his other hand and twisting, as if to suggest wringing someone's neck.

"No, no…" Snape sighed, "Nothing like that… Nothing so crude. Thing is, this all works both ways… If we – well, _I_ – can expose _her_ for the filthy spy she is; all the illegal things she's certainly already done – at _Dumbledore_'s behest… That should be enough to get that old fool sacked. Frankly, I don't care what you do to her. I just need her well enough to be observed. Hex her all you want, just leave her intact. Leave _destroying_ her for me. Understood…?"

Strange as it might sound, that was actually a quite merciful sentiment considering the circumstances. It wasn't like Rosier would _literally_ kill her. Even he wasn't that stupid – or probably competent. And, a very good part of him wanted to deal with her. But, it was personal. He wanted to do so himself. And not in such a crude way as they likely would. And, in some tiny way… maybe… if she actually had been genuine in saving him earlier. Whatever tiny modicum of a hint of guilt he might otherwise feel. Well, they were more than even now; now that he'd called off the others. Well, sort of… At any rate, it was enough to destroy even the slightest thought of being indebted to her. He was free now to hate her fully, and hopefully the others would stay out of his way.

"Fine…" Avery said, obviously not pleased with Snape's … orders, but knowing better than to question him if it were a matter involving the Death Eaters. "So anyway. Think you could help me on the essay we have for potions?"

"Let's see it…" Snape shook his head a bit derisively; but in all honesty, he was glad that, if nothing else, the topic had moved away from _that_. It was … a complicated enough matter already without _them_ getting involved.

* * *

><p><em>September 3<em>_rd__, 1976_

The day so far had been strangely quiet. There had been classes, but there were no duels, no insufferable spies stealing his secret formulations in potions. Snape and Hermione – and worse yet _Lily_ – had had Ancient Runes together earlier in the day, but the class was a lecture in structure, so it left for mercifully little interaction. He had been in more danger of dying from sheer boredom as the professor droned on and on about material he'd already read over the summer – what else was he going to do after all, stuck alone with just a muggle for company – than any possible altercations happening _there_.

In fact, nothing at all had happened that day until early into dinner, several owls came flying into the room, bearing letters. Nothing that unusual in itself. One of the owls flew down to the Slytherin table, dropping a letter in Severus's lap. How odd. He hadn't been expecting anything. He'd yet to send a letter to Lucius after arriving at Hogwarts; he'd been too … distracted to do so. Though, come to think of it he really should. Especially now that it looked like Dumbledore had escalated his rather heinous plans, and had enlisted the direct support of a supposed student.

Maybe Lucius had written first though? Maybe something had happened or there was some important task he wanted Severus to undertake on his behalf there at Hogwarts or…? Anxiously, he tore the letter open, trying not to draw too much attention to himself in doing so. He supposed it probably would be smarter to open the letter later in private if it were from Lucius than risk… others seeing it. But really, there wasn't much practical harm that could come of such. Anyone in Slytherin who had any wits about them knew that Lucius wrote to Severus and vice versa. Hell, Dumbledore himself probably knew as much; but there was nothing illegal about that on the surface of things, so there was nothing he could do about it. And Lucius was quite intelligent; he'd never write anything … incriminating in his letters. Enough of course to inform Severus what task he ought to perform, but never enough to place either of them in danger of penalty if by some chance their correspondence was intercepted by some unfriendly parties.

A momentary look of disappointment came across the Slytherin male's face though when he opened the letter. It … wasn't Lucius's handwriting. That was for certain. The Malfoy heir had a rather elegant, cursive script, and this was hastily written, hardly even legible scrawl. He had to squint at parts to even make the letter out:

_Severus Snape,_

_I'd ask that you keep the contents of your message to yourself for the moment. Don't want everyone in Hogwarts knowing after all. There's something I'd like to go over with the House Captains for Dueling Club now that I've determined the four of you. We're meeting tonight, half past midnight, top of the Astronomy Tower. Don't be late, and once more, obviously, tell this to no one._

_Sincerely,_

_Professor Argentum Gyllenkrok. _

Though disappointed that it wasn't from Malfoy, the letter did seem to pique a certain curiosity in him. Snape's impressions of Gyllenkrok were already significantly better than any previous professors of DADA – though that wasn't necessarily saying the much. In some ways, they held matters in common. Both seemed to have little tolerance for idiocy, both seemed unsatisfied with the … limited knowledge afforded of the Dark Arts at Hogwarts. Maybe only if … if he and Lily had gone to Durmstrang instead of Hogwarts. The Dark Arts – she'd … understand them better. Not have such an irrational fear of them. She wouldn't have left him she… He sighed heavily, trying to shake away the thoughts.

He was at Hogwarts, and so was she. In opposite Houses. He'd just have to make the best of what fate had given them. Either way, he'd get her back in time… he was sure of that. He'd have to. He couldn't imagine living like … this … forever.

It was indirect but… as he'd already considered, Dueling Club could help with that. Both in getting him some positive attention in her eyes once more and training him for the war ahead. The war he'd have to survive, and fight valiantly in. So… in the end of things, when there was lasting peace at last. He'd be strong, powerful, respected. And she'd be his again.

Damnit. Why couldn't he think of anything without it reminding him somehow or another of her. It was like his mind was deliberately making connections with everything just to torture itself more… For now it was just dueling club. A chance to practice his spellwork, and humiliate some arrogant Gryffindor vermin – that spy of Dumbledore's most of all. Whatever Gyllnekrok had in mind for that night, he'd be interested in finding out.

Hermione too had gotten a letter of course. The same nearly illegible scrawl telling her to be at the Astronomy Tower at 12:30 for some "secret meeting" that night. Honestly, it made her a bit anxious. Did Dumbledore even know about this? Was this even sanctioned…? At least it was coming from a Professor, not a student; someone with some degree of authority. But still, Hermione wasn't even sure if she could trust him after what she'd seen in class…

Well, there was no good reason _not_ to go she supposed. It'd look odd, possibly even cause problems if she didn't show up. And… she'd already said she'd be the House Captain, and well… she didn't like the idea of backing out of her responsibilities. Even if this made her feel a bit uncomfortable. Just… why did it have to be so late, so secluded? There was something clearly suspect about it all…

And annoyingly, the Marauders hadn't even been giving her time to think. She'd have thought they might have backed off, thought less of her after the incident of the other day. But most peculiarly, it seemed to have almost the opposite effect. They hadn't been in class with her earlier, but the four of them had made almost a beeline to swarm to her during dinner.

James had been particularly annoying going on and on about the upcoming Quidditch game, and it was really starting to wear on her. Sure, she had as much House Pride as any other Gryffindor but… James was really starting to come across as an incredibly arrogant prat. She almost wondered if the Sorting Hat had made a mistake and he really belonged in Slytherin. There was a lot of cognitive dissonance seeing someone who looked and sounded so similar to Harry acting so … opposite of everything he tried to be. Maybe, probably, he'd change with time. She was probably being a bit harsher on him than was just but… He was a Gryffindor. His actions reflected poorly on the House as a whole, hurt all of them by association.

Yet as soon as the damned letter arrived, a sudden silence fell over them. Four pairs of eyes stared at her intently as she read it over. "So what you got there, Hermione?" Sirius asked in a irkingly smooth tone.

"A letter." She replied flatly.

"Well yeah, but who from?" Merlin, did he have no conception of _privacy_?

"A Professor. About a meeting for Dueling Club." She nodded, folding it up and putting it in her bag. She knew better than to divulge the time and place to them. For all she knew they might show up and try to cause a scene, and she'd be the obvious one to blame. The last thing she wanted was to give Gyllenkrok a reason to hate her…

* * *

><p>With varying degrees of excitement and trepidation, Severus and Hermione had awaited the first meeting of the Dueling Club that evening. The Astronomy Tower was some good distance away from the Slytherin Dormitories, so Severus had left at fifteen or so past midnight, not wanting to risk being late. The castle was eerily dark and quiet that night; it almost reminded him of all the times he used to sneak off at night in years past to see… No, damnit, he couldn't think of that right now. It certainly didn't help though that his destination would essentially require him to walk right past the portrait of the Fat Lady…<p>

He'd made it up the stairs without seeing a single living soul. The paintings had mumbled a bit as he walked by; he even thought he might have seen a fleeting glance of one of the ghosts, but other than that he was alone. Absolute silence except his footsteps and the pounding of blood in his eardrums.

Hermione had waited until nearly the last minute to leave her dormitory – wanting to ensure that the Marauders didn't see her leave; couldn't possibly follow her. If they caused problems for her _again_, especially in regards to academic matters – well, Harry might never be born in lieu of what she'd want to do to his father…

Not long after leaving the Fat Lady's corridor, she too found herself at the entrance to the Astronomy Tower. Alone with just Snape. How… incredibly awkward. Hadn't the letter said that Gyllenkrok had picked a House Captain from each of the four Houses. So … where were the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff ones? Their names weren't specifically mentioned, and she hadn't been paying specific attention to which students from those Houses had happened to get a letter to posit a guess. But surely they'd be getting there soon, wouldn't they…?

"Umm… hello…" Hermione managed an awkward wave, still clenching her teeth as she spoke. She… supposed, if … they were going to be working together in this club on … some level. Well, they should at least make efforts to be … civil. Even if it was a disingenuous effort. A bit irritatingly, he didn't even bother to respond.

Then, somewhat to their mutual, unspoken relief, a set of footsteps approached. An adult from the sound of it. Presumably Gyllenkrok. Good. Now … whatever they were going to do could be done for the night. Hopefully the other two captains would arrive, and each of them could deal with them instead of each other. That was the silent, unspoken consensus at least. They didn't need words to communicate as much.

But… as the figure approached… it … wasn't Gyllenkrok. Nor a captain of either of the other House teams. "Students out of bed!" Even twenty years earlier, Hermione recognized and cringed reflexively at that voice.

"We're here for a club meeting." Snape retorted sharply, Hermione was still breathless.

"Oh?" Filch demanded in an equally acerbic tone. "So why is it just the two of you standing here?"

"Look…" Snape replied drily. "Me and … _her_" a bit of venom in his voice at drawing reference to Hermione, even in defending _himself_, "And a Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were chosen as House Captains for Dueling Club. And Professor Gyllenkrok wanted us to meet here at the Astronomy Tower tonight. It's all here in the letter…"

Rather irate, Snape shoved his letter into Filch's hand. That… had been smart, Hermione had to begrudgingly admit. Rather foolishly in hindsight, she'd left her own still folded up in her book back in her dormitory. If it hadn't been for Snape, she'd have no proof at all of her innocence.

"Hmm…" Filch considered, his eyes narrowing as he held the letter up to his lantern to read it over. "So where's Gyllenkrok and the other two students, hmm?"

"I… don't know…" Hermione spoke this time. "But I got the same letter and, that's why I'm here too, sir… Can we please just wait for them? I'm sure they'll show up, and this will all just be a misunderstanding…"

"Not bloody likely. Don't know how dumb you think I am, but I've heard 'em all… I suppose you think since you're new here, you don't have to follow our rules? Well, I'll set ya straight there. The two of you, let's go see Gyllenkrok in his office. See what he has to say about this all… And if you lot are _lying_ to me…"

Severus and Hermione both shot glances somewhere between confusion and outrage at Filch, but both knew better than to fight the issue. Surely… this was all just a misunderstanding. Maybe Gyllenkrok had gotten caught up or… Well, at any rate, he'd obviously sent them the letter so… He'd be able to vouch for them. They couldn't possibly be punished with a professor backing them.

So, rather dejectedly, the two followed silently after Filch down the flights of staircase until they finally came to Gyllenkrok's office. The door was closed, but the light pouring out underneath indicated he was still present within. Well… that was odd… Shouldn't he have already been up to the Astronomy Tower by now? Certainly it was past 12:30 already.

"Come in!" Gyllenkrok called shortly, putting down a book on his desk as Filch and the two students marched in.

"I caught these two wandering in the hallways." Filch informed the professor.

"And why is this a matter of my concern?" Gyllenkrok frowned, narrowing his eyes. "I do hope you have a reason of some actual importance for interrupting my reading…?"

"Well, sir…" Filch blinked, taken a little aback. "They said you had a meeting they were waiting for."

"What 'meeting'?" Gyllenkrok demanded sharply. And with those two words, both Severus and Hermione's hearts and hopes of getting out of this intact sank. "I didn't schedule any meeting for tonight…"

"It's… the letter!" Hermione protested, pointing to the letter in Filch's hand desperately.

Wordlessly, Gyllenkrok wrenched the thing from Filch's hands, milling it over for a second or two.

"I don't know what sort of foolishness this is, but I didn't write this… Dueling Club isn't meeting until Wednesday of next week."

"Right, well, one of these malicious miscreants must have written this, then…" Filch sneered, closing the door to Gyllenkrok's office behind him as he marched the two of them out "Thinking they'd be real clever. Thinking they could fool me. No one fools Filch. Detentions for the lot of you for a week, for a month, for a year!"

Severus glared murderously at Hermione for a moment. Had she done this to him…? But… admittedly, that didn't make much sense. She'd been just as much a victim to this as he had… What the hell was going on? Hermione though… thought she had some idea. Of at least what had happened. It was … eerily similar to an incident that had happened, First Year, also involving "dueling" past hours.

However different, opposite the might otherwise be. However strongly they might otherwise hate one another, Severus and Hermione now had one thing in common: They both had the strongest desire to hex into oblivion whoever _had _written those damned letters.


	9. The Usual Suspects

**Author's Note: Alright, so I was less busy than usual this week – thus more in line with my summer schedule, I was able to put this chapter out earlier than I've been. Can't promise that things will continue this way but, after the end of the month, at least one activity that's taking up a ton of my time will be done, so keep your fingers crossed I guess.**

** RawenclawBabe – Aye. Honestly, I have trouble thinking much of James myself. Sirius I think somewhat **_**slightly**_** better of, just because there's the adult version to kind of temper things – though he seems rather … unrepentant even then for his actions in the past, so ehh… I suppose maybe if James had lived longer, he might too have been better; and I guess as a somewhat redeeming trait, he did try, maybe, to protect Lily/Harry in the end. Not very well though since he died so quickly the other two couldn't apparate away… But ehh, tangents, sorry…**

** Unsigned – To your points, I'm attempting to write somewhat longer; this chapter at least ended up being somewhat more so. Kind of depends on the level of activity/thought for what's happening. The next two chapters should be … intense to say the least – more so than what's been written so far, so they'll probably be my longest yet. Haven't written them down yet though, so I can't exactly say.**

**And as per Hermione fighting the Marauders/Slytherins. Well, something like that will come up a few times throughout the story as I have it set up yes. And… you'll probably like at least one of them.**

**Finally, 30k words, and 50 reviews! Thank you very, very much to my loyal subscribers for staying with me this far. Hope I'm doing a good job thus far.**

_September 3__rd__, 1976_

"We're going to see Slughorn about this." Snape had said. It wasn't a statement so much as a demand.

He was still absolutely infuriated by what had just happened. Someone had played him for a fool, and when he found out who it was… Actually, he was pretty damned sure who that _someone_ was. Well, at least, he would be if he were alone…

If it were just him marching alongside Filch now, the Marauders would be the obvious suspects. Nearly everything that went wrong at this damned school – especially for _him_ – was always their damned fault. He could almost see the idiots sitting in their common room in rounds of jeering laughter at getting "Snivellus" another detention – or who knows what – over their stupid letter.

But… Hermione was there too. Most perplexingly. And as far as anything he'd seen, she seemed to have fallen pretty neatly into their circle of influence. Why would _they_ target _her_? She was practically one of their own as far as he could tell; working for Dumbledore, the man who favored their sort, and they probably idolized in his boneheaded self-righteous crusade against the Dark Lord… Yeah, that didn't make… any sense.

It'd obviously been an enemy of his of some sort but… an enemy of _hers_ too. They were effectively almost perfect mutual enemies, so who the hell hated _both_ of them…? It didn't follow. But it was obviously _someone_; there was obviously more to the picture than met the eye. And, when he determined just who it was, they'd have hell to pay, that was for damned sure. He might even forget to hate Hermione long enough to enlist her help in dealing with them…

"And why would I take you there?" Filch shot back.

"Because he's the Head of my House, so he has the final say on what punishment I do – and_ don't _get."

This was all absolutely unfair. An obvious setup. He felt… rather embarrassed that he hadn't seen through it before but… Gyllenkrok was new and a bit… unorthodox, and Severus had never seen the professor's handwriting before, so how could he have possibly known it _wasn't _real?

Slughorn would understand though. He knew Severus; knew that he was a dedicated student. One of the best he'd ever seen. Hell, he was always saying it in class; and it was objectively true… Well, he'd said about as much about _Hermione_ the other day in class too – after she'd, somehow or other, stolen his formulas for potion-making; so he could be quite… fickle at times. But hell, Slughorn would still probably believe him, Severus was sure; and … if he really somehow liked Hermione too, having her with, corroborating his story… Well, it couldn't hurt. Even if he personally disliked her, if… her being there as well would somehow make his story more believable, so much the better.

"Oh?" Filch retorted, "_She_'s not a Slytherin though, is she…?"

"It's fine…" Hermione responded, actually somewhat surprised by the words as they escaped her lips.

Well, it was the… logical conclusion. Since this was a matter of discipline involving a Slytherin and a Gryffindor, it'd have to be taken up by the Head of at least one of the Houses – Slughorn or McGonagall. And… of the two, somehow Hermione had the impression that Slughorn would be … rather more lenient. Sure she was rather fond of the Head of her own House, her rather sharp wit, serious yet well-meaning demeanor; all of that was well and good in Hermione's own time. Back when she'd been a diligent student for six years, earned the professor's difficulty-won respect. Then and there she might have been more likely to give Hermione some credence.

Here, she hadn't even had a single class with McGonagall yet. This McGonagall knew her name, possibly some variant of her circumstances from Dumbledore – as Hermione was in Gryffindor after all – and that was really about it. She couldn't expect any real leniency from the Head of her own House then, having… frustratingly, no reputation as a diligent student to stand in her defense here.

Slughorn, though was… not so objective. Which, admittedly could be either a good or a bad thing. Here though it was clearly a good one. In class the other day, he'd taking a liking to … both of them. Well, she supposed he'd probably liked Snape from years past. Objectively… she supposed… he was probably rather good at potions, and in Slughorn's House so… they probably were on fairly good terms. Probably exactly why Snape had been so adamant about demanding to talk to him. Well, since he seemed to like her as well, she wasn't really about to object. In a weird way, for now at least, their interests aligned.

And, admittedly, there was a self-serving aspect to it all. Hermione was, after all, a Gryffindor. As far as most at the school were concerned, this was only her third day at the school. She had no strong reputation behind her so; well, it wouldn't do to have her first real interaction with McGonagall involving her wandering the school corridors at night – with a _Slytherin_ of all things, particularly _him_ – with only an unprovable story for justification. Slughorn seemed to like her alright, so… that was that.

Snape shot her a rather suspicious glance. He would have expected her to protest, to demand to see McGonagall instead – hopefully the end result of that being Filch having to send them their separate ways, and hopefully staying with Hermione – so it'd just be him and Slughorn, and he'd be able to make a better case for himself. She… agreed though. He didn't really know what to make of that. Wouldn't she normally prefer one of her own House as an advocate? Maybe … she just hadn't been at Hogwarts long enough for that to make a difference or… something more was going on. It was rather odd, whatever it was.

A bit exasperated that both students agreed on which Head of House – thinking he'd surely have then in an unbeatable conundrum, Filch really had no choice but to concede. "Fine, I'll take you miserable lot down to the _dungeons_ to see him. You know, if I ran this place, you'd be locked down there for weeks for this."

"Fine." Snape retorted bitterly. "The Slytherin dorms are rather nice after all. Wouldn't have to deal with most of the _worthless degenerates_ who live above that way…"

Hermione shrunk back a bit at that comment. She… wanted to retort on her own, but thought better of it. They were in this together, for now, so starting a fight – particularly one in front of Filch – wouldn't be helping anyone's case. She just bit her lip. Was he really that bitter, have that strong of loathing for most everyone else? Well, the adult Snape certainly did; and he… really didn't seem that much different there. Sure, it seemed he and the Marauders were enemies; a sort of two-way resentment. If that was all it was, then it'd make sense. She wasn't much a fan of Malfoy, Crabbe, or Goyle in her own time. And… maybe didn't think the best of Slytherin accordingly. But… she didn't go out of her way to hate each and every Slytherin who ever existed. Or… did she…? It was a bit of an odd thought but, was her attitude towards the Slytherin House really better than his towards Gryffindor?

Alright, intuitively she knew that not _every_ Slytherin was necessarily a malicious, vindictive pure-blood supremacist. And not _every _Gryffindor was absolutely heroic at all times – Pettigrew, and disappointingly, James and Sirius, came to mind. Fine. That logically followed. But it was incredibly easy to generalize, form heuristics in her mind where she subconsciously just assumed all Slytherins to be an identical breed, even if she didn't … necessarily… consciously think such … if she really, really thought hard about it… So, maybe it wasn't surprising that Snape did the same thing. The conclusions didn't follow, but she could … maybe understand the process. She guessed…

Fine. It would be hypocritical to hold that statement against him when she'd probably said, or at least _thought_ the same of his House in the past. Didn't mean she liked it though. Despite no longer thinking the highest of a few select individuals, she was still proud to be a Gryffindor, to wear the red and gold.

Well, such musings would have to do for later. They'd arrived now at Slughorn's office. Filch knocked, Hermione held her breath. Snape looked simply… stoic.

"Yes?" the professor inquired, his voice calling from within, and a few seconds or so later, holding the door open.

"Sorry to trouble you sir, but it seems these two _miscreants_ were roaming the castle at night, and tried to lie to me about it."

"Oh?" Slughorn asked, raising his brow somewhat incredulously, "Miss Granger and Mr. Snape? I … find that somewhat difficult to believe. Surely there's an explanation?"

"There is sir," Hermione began almost as Slughorn was still speaking. "We… umm, the two of us that is… We were selected by Professor Gyllenkrok as captains of our Houses' teams for Dueling Club. And… the two of us both received a letter claiming that the first meeting would be tonight, half past midnight on top of the Astronomy Tower. But…" she frowned. "Well, the letters weren't from him… Someone set us up…"

"Obvious lies…" Filch sneered.

"No they aren't…" Snape snapped back, still feeling quite odd in defending a Gryffindor's story. But hell, they were in the same mess, had the same interests, for now. "I have the damned letter right…" he frowned mid-thought, realizing he _didn't_ have the letter. Either Gyllenkrok or Filch had it. If it were the latter, there was nothing to be done. He'd surely claim otherwise and then destroy it later on… Snape wanted to strangle him really in indignant rage. If Gyllenkrok had it… if he hadn't thrown it away himself already, thinking it worthless… maybe they had a chance, later on, to clear their names. But for now they had no proof.

"Well?" Slughorn asked.

"I… left it in Gyllenkrok's office." Snape admitted, sullenly. At least, he _hoped_ that was the case. "Where's yours?" he demanded sharply, turning to Hermione. They were in this mess together, so she'd better pull her own damn weight and show _her_ letter.

"Back… in my dormitory, sir…" Hermione said, looking down, deliberately speaking to Slughorn rather than Snape. The latter looked absolutely infuriated at this. Now, thanks to her… incompetence, they had no means whatsoever of getting out of this. "If you'd just let me run up to my dorm and get it, sir?"

"No, no, I'm not interested in that…" Slughorn said waving her off. "I think this matter is fairly straightforward. You're both among my brighter students. Naturally with that comes a certain curiosity, a certain… disregard for the stricter of rules at times? Harmless really I think, but for the sake of the less talented, less able students, there has to be order. Pity really."

It was all the two students could do to keep from shooting disgusted glances at one another here. Just the thought of being compared to one another like that, even in what was supposed to pass as a compliment. It was … rather nauseating to say the least.

"No House points for this incident I think…" Slughorn continued, though his words did very little to improve the spirits of either of the students. "It'd only make the competition between the Houses … less interesting. A single detention is probably in order. I'm sure McGonagall will agree in Miss Granger's case."

All three of the others shot him a look of indignant protest, Filch being the only to actually speak. "But sir, these miscreants deliberately broke school regulations and I think…"

"No, Filch, my word, and that of McGonagall, who I suspect will agree, here is final. Thank you though, Mr. Filch, for bringing this matter to my attention. I will deal with it from here. I'm sure you have more duties to attend to this evening. Don't let me keep you." With that, he ushered, nearly having to bodily push, Filch out the door to his office, closing the doors behind him.

"Now," Slughorn began, turning towards Severus and Hermione. "Apologies for that but, well, appearances must be maintained. I'm certain the two of you were up to nothing so nefarious as Filch may have been suggesting. You're new here, Hermione, so you ought to know that he has a tendency to … exaggerate the faults of students. Means well enough I suppose, but you'd be best to try and stay clear of him."

Hermione nodded simply. If only Slughorn knew how well she knew…

"Now then. As to this matter. I don't really care to question why you were about the castle at night. Your own matters, your own very interesting lives, I'm sure… Just, be more careful more time is all I would say…"

"But sir!" Hermione protested, "We really _were_ set up…!"

"Hmm…" Slughorn frowned, "Made enemies already have we…? Well, I suppose that's the way of things. Those with talent, ability tend to have their … jealous detractors. I'd take it as a compliment, in a way. But, of course, if you can find the one responsible, I'll ensure they're held accountable as anyone else…"

"I have the letter still I think…" Hermione frowned, "It's back in my dormitory." Though… she wasn't certain how much good that would do. Unless she could find out who had written it, and match their handwriting as proof – assuming they hadn't disguised it – it certainly wouldn't be proof of much of anything. Damn, this was infuriating. There was little in the world that Hermione valued more than her reputation as a good and diligent student, and someone had deliberately set out to sabotage that; ruin her reputation before she even had a chance to establish herself. Thankfully Slughorn didn't seem to think much less of her, but… Still, they'd tried. And for what…? She didn't even have any enemies did she…? Not ones that'd hate both her and Snape, unless there was some internal fighting in Slytherin that she was unaware of. Which… she guessed could be the case. Seemed a bit of a stretch though…

"Well, feel free to bring it in tomorrow if you think it'd help." Slughorn suggested.

"Tomorrow?" Hermione questioned, "But tomorrow is Saturday…"

"Detention wasn't a lie I'm afraid…" Slughorn sighed slightly, "I'm sorry, but I had to do something to pacify Filch. If it looked like I was showing favoritism to the best… that wouldn't do, now would it…? But, don't worry. Nothing too difficult. Just you and Mr. Snape helping me clean the potions classroom for an hour or so. Right after dinner work for you?"

Perfect. Just the way she wanted to spend her Saturday night. Inside a dingy potions room, her and Snape… A rather pronounced frown formed at the thought. "Fine…"

Even more sullenly, Snape nodded, begrudgingly. Well, it could have been a lot worse he guessed. At least Slughorn … somewhat lessened the damage. Still though, when he found the responsible parties – well, detention would be the last of _their_ worries, he was sure of that much…

"It's settled then." Slughorn nodded, almost jovially. "So, I take it you can find your way back to the Slytherin Dormitories on your own without incident, Severus? I'll escort Miss Granger up to the Gryffindor Tower since it's further so that Filch won't happen to trouble her again."

Somewhat dejectedly, Snape turned and walked off; Slughorn and Hermione off to the upper levels of the castle.

* * *

><p>After thanking Slughorn, arriving at the Seventh Floor, Hermione made her way over towards the Fat Lady's portrait. She'd been asleep and was somewhat irate at being awakened, telling Hermione off, but nonetheless opened dutifully at the password.<p>

Hermione headed through the Common Room, wanting nothing more than to get to her dormitory, collapse on her bed, and fall asleep of sheer exhaustion, when she noticed. The Common Room wasn't empty. There were four others there, sitting in the chairs, turned to face the entrance corridor. A certain four, male, sixth year Gryffindors. The way they grinned at her, particularly Sirius and James – it was almost as if they'd been waiting for her. But, how could that be…?

"'Ello Hermione." Sirius said with an exaggerated wave. "How was Dueling Club?"

"It was…" She began, suddenly a rather cross look coming across her face. "Wait, how would you know…?"

"It was all in the _letter_ wasn't it?" James asked, a rather telling smirk on his face.

The letter? But they hadn't read it, hadn't seen it. She was sure of that. Unless…

"_You_?" she demanded incredulously, hands on her hips "_You _wrote that letter…?"

"Maybe, maybe not…" Sirius added in, grinning cheek to cheek.

"I can't believe you!" Hermione nearly fumed, "I'm going to McGonagall right now, telling her what you all just did…"

"Oh, scare me to death…" James mocked. "I'm ever so frightened of … detention. Anyhow, where's your proof? All we said was 'maybe'."

James was fortunate Hermione wasn't holding anything, or she'd have thrown it at him. "I'm taking the letter to her first thing in the morning. You have _terrible_ handwriting, but she'd be sure to know it by now… I mean, impersonating a professor, setting up others for detention. That has to be breaking at least five separate school rules…"

"Oh, _this_?" Sirius taunted, holding up the same folded letter she'd seen earlier, then throwing it in the lit fireplace as Hermione rushed over.

"Sorry Hermione," James added. "I'd misplaced my books, asked Lily if I could borrow yours for studying while you were out. And… she was happy to oblige. Your books are safely back though, so don't worry."

"You. Four…" Hermione began through clenched teeth, punctuating each and every syllable. "Are. Vile! I can't believe you would do this to anyone, much less a fellow Gryffindor! We're supposed to be honorable, loyal… And you're acting like a bunch of …" She huffed. The word she'd almost just said was 'degenerates'… Damnit, get set up together by the same scheme, and she was almost thinking, talking like him. Get _a hold of yourself, Hermione…_

"Why'd you do it anyhow?" Hermione demanded.

"Isn't it obvious?" Sirius teased, "The way you defended _Snivellus_ the other day like that. So cute… Obvious you have a crush on him, no?" He raised his brows. "Thought the two of you would like some time alone together. A nice midnight stroll through the castle…?"

"Right, really you should be thanking us." James added, a bit of a chuckle. "Setting the two of you up like that. Maybe little _Snivelly_ won't be alone anymore. Maybe he has a _new_ Gryffindor girlfriend…? Are we great matchmakers or what, guys?"

Hermione was almost too livid to speak. "I don't in any way like _Severus_!" She scowled, emphasizing his correct name. "I just happened to think what they four of you were doing was _absolutely despicable_! To _anyone_. To think that someone could wear our House's colors and act so absolutely without any decency… I can't believe you…!"

"Aww, she's in denial, how cute…"

Hermione shot daggers at James with her eyes. Remus and Peter were already near the back of the room, obviously uncomfortable at the confrontation before them.

"I am _not_ 'in denial'!" Hermione fumed. "I just think the four of you are entirely horrible, and I'd protect anyone from you – even a _Slytherin_…"

She was a bit surprised herself as the words came out herself. Not really sure if she meant it in a literal degree but… Hermione was absolutely livid. Too much so to take it back for now.

"Ooh, a firey one…" James smirked, "Snivelly always seemed to like that type. Looks like we've found a good match, boys. Job well done. Maybe we should dye her hair next to match…"

"Touch me, any of you…" Hermione's eyes dangerously wandered over the four Marauders, pulling out and pointing her wand at each and every one of them – James and Sirius still rather amused, Pettigrew looking absolute terrified, and Remus just … looking down, "and you won't be able to ride a broom straight for a month…" She huffed. "I'm going to bed. I can't deal with this any more…" And with that, Hermione Granger stormed up the stairs to the Girls' Dormitories.

As she left, she thought she might have heard a round of cheers from Sirius and James, and Remus angrily demanding that James and Sirius not speak for the four of them…

Perfect, just bloody perfect. Not even a week into class and she'd seemed to have made near enemies of the very four she thought would have been her closest friends…


	10. Detention

**Author's Note: Sorry for taking so long in updating it. I wanted to release these two chapters at once, as I was somewhat afraid that people might despise me for leaving it on the note that this one itself does. And they both ended up being a lot longer than previous ones had been, and I've been fairly busy; so yeah, sorry…**

** Various – Since a lot of people seemed to bring it up. Yeah, I rather agree on Lupin's case. Though, I'm not really sure there's a whole lot he could have done if he wanted. In a certain sense, the Marauders had him "blackmailed", since they knew of his … condition. Not really sure if they'd be that horrible to reveal it if he "turned" on them – probably only if it was in a major way, but it might have occurred in his mind, so… Though I think primarily his motivation was just trying to have friends and not jeopardize that.**

**And once more, thanks to everyone for following this story. Can't say if following chapters will be anywhere near this long, but we'll see… And yeah, please don't hate me until you've at least read them BOTH. xD (No AN on next chapter for obvious reasons)**

_September 4__th__, 1976_

The more she thought about it, the more upset Hermione Granger got. The four of them literally saw nothing wrong in deliberately going out of their way to ruin the lives of others, purely for their own amusement. That night she'd been nearly too livid, fuming to sleep. The other girls were all there when she came storming up; she might have even woken up Mary – for that she could only offer a momentary sheepish apology before collapsing onto bed.

The worst bit of it all, Lily had asked her what was wrong. Hermione didn't want to say, didn't want to trouble Lily when she was obviously upset with something probably much worse. So, Hermione had lied, said it was nothing. An obvious, transparent lie, one that Lily obviously saw through but nodded away slightly sadly.

Hermione just fell on her bed, too upset to want to talk to anyone else for now. It was frustrating, just being a "normal" student again, not a prefect. She couldn't just hand out detentions, take away points – though honestly, she wasn't sure how much the four of them would care about either. And with the letter destroyed now, it'd be her word against theirs. Snape's letter might be … who knows where, but she wasn't holding her breath that a _Slytherin_ would come to her defense. She wouldn't be surprised in the least if he claimed that he alone had received the letter or… If _he_ even had it. It'd still be something to work off of though if he did.

Well, she at least knew who was responsible. It might be her word against theirs, but, in consideration, while she might have essentially no reputation one way or another to back her, the Marauders were probably notorious troublemakers. It probably wouldn't be all that difficult to convince Professor McGonagall that she'd been set up by them.

Should she tell Snape though in detention tomorrow? She was almost tempted admittedly. But really, what good would come of that? He'd probably do something equally hideous in turn, maybe even escalate things. At the end of the day, she was still a Gryffindor, he was still a Slytherin. And even if some members of her own House weren't quite as honorable as she would have liked, thought... Well, Slytherins still were much more vile overall. Where did every Dark Wizard she'd ever heard of – Pettigrew aside – hail from? Yeah, the Marauders were a crude, brash group. They certainly crossed many lines she didn't approve of. And, they'd lost a lot of her respect recently as a result. But still, three of the four of them at least grew up to be brave, respectable, honorable adults. And what did most Slytherins become…?

Yeah, she shouldn't do anything _stupid_ she determined. She'd deal with the matter internally, go to McGonagall in the morning, explain what had happened. The Marauders would, hopefully at least, then be punished appropriately for their misdeeds, and that would be that. No escalation of things, no more trouble at least on her end. Well, they might be a bit miffed at her for reporting them, but it was their own just deserts for breaking school rules like that.

Sure she was still furious over what happened, but that didn't justify acting irrationally. At the end of the day, she was still a loyal Gryffindor. And even if she and a Slytherin had been entrapped by the same scheme, briefly shared a common interest in defending themselves, that certainly didn't make them "allies." To think that even for a minute or so she'd considered sending a Slytherin against other members of her House. _Get a hold of yourself, Hermione._

Morning came all too soon. She'd slept well enough she supposed. Being Saturday, there were no classes to get up for, but out of habit – having effectively already spent _months_ in class, opposed to everyone else who'd only been there a few days – she'd awakened rather early. The Great Hall was still nearly empty – a few dozen students between all the Houses – as she straggled down, grabbing a light breakfast. She ate rather quickly, ideally not wanting to chance running into the Marauders again if she could at all help it.

That done, she was off to see McGonagall. It was the last place she thought the Marauders were likely to go, and if nothing else, she thought she could at least explain her side of the story to the Head of her House, at least try and salvage her reputation. With a slight degree of trepidation, Hermione made her way to the Transfiguration professor's office, knocking thricely.

It was unfair, really, how the Marauders were attempting to destroy her reputation before she even had a chance to establish herself. In the nineties, McGonagall seemed to think well of her, but there was nothing to guarantee that now.

"Yes?" McGonagall called, opening the door, adjusting the glasses on her eyes as she turned to face Hermione. "Ahh, yes, Miss Granger, was it? What is it that you needed?"

"I…" Hermione faltered for a moment. McGonagall hadn't raised her voice, hadn't done anything particularly hostile; but having her first real interaction with the Head of her House – at least in some senses – involving a matter of detention was certainly… less than ideal. "I came to discuss what happened last night. There's something I think you should know."

"Oh yes, so I've heard." McGonagall replied, again not in all that harsh of a tone, but still enough to make Hermione cringe a bit inside. "You know I don't abide well by students of my House breaking school rules. You're really quite lucky the matter fell to Slughorn's decision. If it weren't for him being so adamant that you were new and thus somehow deserve leniency, I'd have taken some points from Gryffindor over this. Now what is it?"

"I… I wasn't trying to break school rules, ma'am." Hermione started, frowning a bit. "Honestly. I don't know if Professor Slughorn told you the circumstances or not but… We… the two of us who were out…" She still felt awkward putting her name together with _his_ in any context. "We both were chosen by Professor Gyllenkrok as Captains of our Houses' teams for Dueling Club, and we received these letters saying to meet by the Astronomy Tower at midnight. Honestly I found the idea a bit strange but… I'm new here, and don't really know how things work." Normally Hermione would feel terrible lying to a professor – well, she did – it was just, she didn't really want to admit to being fooled by what in hindsight seemed such a stupid ruse. Being seen as a stupid student didn't seem much better than a deliberate rulebreaker. "It turned out though that the letters were fake. And… I know who wrote them."

"I'd suggest then that you take time to familiarize yourself with our school rules." McGonagall responded with a bit of a curt nod. "You're expected to follow them now that you're here. And… as for the letters, Slughorn told me, yes. If it's as you say, I'll look into it and see that those responsible parties receive the appropriate penalty. So who did you say it was?" The professor's voice was still quite calm, but she seemed to have the same commanding presence that she did twenty years in the future.

"James Potter and Sirius Black." Hermione started off, looking down for a second. "And Remus Lupin and well, Peter… Pettigrew." She cringed even saying the last name. "One of them or all of them, or something. They all at least knew. They admitted it to me themselves last night. Some sort of 'prank' or something."

"I see…" McGonagall nodded slowly, and seemed to give no indication as to whether or not she believed Hermione. "Well, you still need to serve detention this evening, but thank you for bringing this matter to my attention. I'll speak with the four of them today and… appropriate action will be taken if deemed necessary. Is there anything else you'd like to discuss with me?"

"No, Professor." Hermione shook her head, suppressing a bit of a sigh. Did her protests make any difference in salvaging her reputation? Damnit, she was really starting to despise their antics…

Well, there, she'd done it. Done the responsible thing. Dealt with the matter internally, peacefully; without involving a Slytherin. She'd preserved the honor of her House and hopefully at least ensured that on some level at least the Marauders would receive some penalty for their actions.

* * *

><p>"Hey Snape, you wanna come to Hogsmeade with us tonight?"<p>

Damnit. Were they that insipidly stupidly or deliberately trying to provoke him?

"I can't…" Snape muttered sullenly across the table at Avery, "Detention. Thanks to some bloody idiot setting me up… I told you already…"

"Well, we're sneaking there anyway. Want anything?" Wilkes offered.

"No, I really don't care…" he replied rather bitterly. Just figured that of all the Slytherins in his year, _he'd_ be the one stuck with detention. Sure, Severus probably wasn't a model student in terms of following the rules; he thought most of them were downright unnecessary and idiotic, but he'd only break them when there was actually something to be gained in doing so. And generally he did so intelligently. Rather unlike them on both counts.

"Ok, well, we're off to get ready."

"Have 'fun'…" Snape spat at them. The four seemed almost to scurry away. He almost hoped the four of them ended up doing something stupid, got caught sneaking out of the school or… Fine, he was just being bitter. It wasn't _their_ fault he had detention as soon as dinner was over. No Slytherin would be unintelligent enough to try and cause harm to Severus, particularly with nothing to be gained from such. Not now that he exchanged letters with Malfoy at least…

Who _had_ though…? Normally the Marauders would seem the logical choice. But Hermione too…? That didn't follow. She seemed to fit in quite well with them, causing nothing but trouble for him in the few days he'd ever even known her. Well, of course she did. She was a Gryffindor swine, one working for Dumbledore.

Actually, the more he thought of it in those terms, the more it made sense. She was a spy for Dumbledore. So that was why there were so many "coincidences" of them being together, taking the same classes, her knowing his formulas for potions, being assigned as heads of their respective Houses for Dueling Club together, were 'set up' together the night before. She was a decent enough actress. Almost seemed genuinely surprised. Might have fooled someone of lesser intellect. But then again, she'd almost seemed genuinely upset when she was deliberately reenacting the events of the worst day of his life.

Dumbledore had probably arranged the whole thing. Hermione or someone else working with her must have written the damned note. She didn't have one the night before because she hadn't fallen for any ruse; she was behind it. This detention together was just her latest attempt at spying on him. It was low, despicable, but he'd found her out well enough. Gryffindors really were some of the lowest lifeforms alive… Now just to expose her for the miserable wretch she clearly was…

Snape finished eating relatively quickly. Not that the thought of detention, particularly one served with her was appealing in the slightest; he simply wanted to be there before Hermione arrived. And so after only a moment or so more, he found himself at the door to the potions classroom. Normally he'd feel a certain sense of relief just being there, but, having to deal with detention spent with an agent of one of Dumbledore's dastardly schemes. That was anything but appealing to say the least.

The door, it seemed was locked, however. He must have arrived before Slughorn had. That was fine he guessed. Just as long as he got there before Hermione did, so she wouldn't have any chance to set up… whatever her next scheme might be. Hopefully with Slughorn there, if he could catch her in the act, expose her, that could be the end of it – for both Hermione and Dumbledore. If he could prove it all… That might be difficult, but he'd have to start _somewhere_.

"Ahh, there you are." A voice came from behind with a pat on his shoulder, breaking Severus's line of thought momentarily. "Eager to begin, are we…?"

"To get it _over_, sure…" Severus sighed.

"Now, now, don't look so sullen. Shouldn't be that hard. Just helping me clean out some of the cauldrons for class. I'm sure with students as brilliant as you and Miss Granger, the work should be done in no time."

Y_eah, it takes a lot of intelligence to clean cauldrons, doesn't it…?_ Snape thought drily. He was about to reply when suddenly yet another voice interrupted his thoughts. One far less welcome than Slughorn. The girl responsible for all his troubles, at least recently.

"Professor, sorry I'm late! I got caught up on my way over…" Hermione frowned apologetically. The Marauders had hexed her for having reported them to McGonagall at dinner – even as she'd been trying to avoid them all day. It was only thanks to Lily's counter-curse that her tongue wasn't still stuck to the roof of her mouth. Honestly, the _nerve_ of them…

"Oh, it's quite alright. As I was just telling Severus, I just need the two of you to help clean out the cauldrons for class. Don't want any latent reagents leading to problems down the line, now do we?" Slughorn chuckled slightly. "Well, best get to it, shall we?"

Unlocking the door, he let the two of them in. "Easy enough task I'm sure, for the two of you in particular. I'll be behind my desk if you need anything. You're free to go when it's all done."

Hermione nodded quickly and made her way to one of the cauldrons at a table closest to the door. Rather tellingly, Snape made his way to the farthest side of the room from her as possible. Well, fine, she guessed. Just because they'd both been set up by the same scheme didn't mean they were suddenly 'friends'. He still was a Slytherin, she still a Gryffindor. The Marauders' hexing aside, she was really starting to see the wisdom in her early decision to go to McGonagall and leave Snape in the dark. From the looks of things, it wouldn't do her any good in his eyes anyhow, and he and the Marauders already seemed to have an existing relationship of enmity, so it didn't seem it'd do much good there either.

For the moment, Hermione determined just to devote her attention to the task at hand. It was rather tedious work, but the sooner she had it done, the sooner she'd be free with what little of the weekend might remain. To … catch up on her studies or something. She didn't know actually. It wasn't like she had any real close friends here. She'd have thought the Marauders, but … look at how that turned out. Well, maybe in time they'd make peace. It was stupid to keep a grudge like this indefinitely she guessed, but for now, she couldn't stand them. There was Lily, but she seemed to be constantly miserable, even if she made a pretty valiant effort at hiding it; Hermione didn't want to risk doing anything to risk upsetting her more. Well, that left the other Gryffindor girls. Maybe they'd find something to do tonight and tomorrow.

Still though, they were no replace for Harry and Ron. All the times they'd spent together. All their adventures… or misadventures. All the incredibly daft things they'd done that she'd had to help them out of. She'd never realized it so much as now how much her friends meant to her, how much she needed them. And she might never see them again…

It was only after a minute or so that she realized she was just staring down, she'd stopped scrubbing at the cauldron she'd been working at. And Snape too was staring… directly at her. The same sinister, suspicious glint in his eye that so often characterized him as an adult. He really hadn't changed much, had he? Was he always this vile? Maybe it was no wonder he seemed to be so alone, have no friends. Surely no one decent would want to interact with him…

"It's not polite to stare, you know…" Hermione snapped, quickly returning to the task at hand.

"Whatever, _Gryffindor_…" Snape retorted sharply, saying the latter word with such venom, one would think him to be describing some deadly disease. Seriously, who did she think she was – a Gryffindor wench, friends with the Marauder vermin, and agent of Dumbledore trying to lecture _him_ on matters of courtesy. As if her lot had any of that…

"And what, pray tell, is wrong with being a Gryffindor?" Hermione had moved somewhat closer by this point – an unfortunate necessity of having cleaned all the cauldrons at her table, and not wanting to spend a second longer here than possible with _him_ for company, moving on to the next.

"Nothing, if you want a bunch of degenerate imbeciles for company."

Alright, that was it. Any slight amount of sympathy Hermione might have been tempted to feel for Snape before, deriving from their common torment at the hands of the Marauders was quickly slipping away, quickly replaced with the strongest desire to go over there and wring his neck. That judgmental little… Who did he think was, grouping her in with _them_…? After she'd even gone and ran to his defense – as a consequence of which, she was stuck here now. Some gratitude…

Well, Hermione was normally one averse to starting fights, but she wasn't about to back down and simply allow him to disdain her entire House, it's thousand years or so of proud traditions – its honorable virtues of courage and loyalty she strove to embody. She was proud to wear the crimson and gold – even if she wasn't the proudest of all its members, all the time any longer…

"A Slytherin talking about 'degeneracy'? Really, now that's pretty ironic, don't you think?"

Snape shot her a glowering look, was probably to make some biting remark in turn, when suddenly Slughorn got up and started walking over. Evidently unaware of the conflict that had been festering between the two of them. "I'm going to get myself a cup of tea. Be back in a few minutes. I think I can trust the two of you to behave in my absence."

Both Severus and Hermione nodded silently, meeting each other's eyes in venom as Slughorn made his way out of the room.

"Alright, you little Gryffindor cur!" Snape began rather acerbically once he was certain Slughorn would be out of possible earshot, making his way rather dangerously close to her. "How much did Dumbledore pay you to join this little scheme of his, hmm? I suppose you think you've been rather clever, orchestrating everything so far. Arranging it so we'd be here together; you'd have more time to observe me. You wrote that letter I suppose…? Well, I'm on to you, and rest assured, I won't rest until you and that odious old man you work for get what's yours…"

Hermione looked stunned, dumbfounded, her mouth hanging open a bit. How could someone even say something so idiotic, so off-base. Dumbledore, he … he was one of the kindest, bravest men he knew. Even in this era, just having met her for the "first" time, he'd entirely taken her at her word, made arrangements to take her in, continue her education. And Snape was talking about… well, she couldn't even make full sense of just what he was accusing of her and Dumbledore of – but some conspiracy or another. Was he always this suspicious of everyone, always making the worst assumptions based off of nothing? Well, this was _Snape_ she was referring to, so of course he bloody was…

"Are you absolutely mental? Why would Dumbledore want to 'spy' on you – or any other student for that matter?"

"Don't play stupid with me…" Snape remarked drily. "Might not be that remarkably hard a role for a _Gryffindor_ to play, but even _you_ can't be that dense… You're working for Dumbledore. He practically admitted so himself at the Welcoming Feast…"

Merlin, Snape was perhaps even more infuriating now than as an adult. At least the most the adult ever really could say against her was that she was an 'insufferable know it all'. At least he begrudgingly made reference to her intelligence. This version of him seemed to think her an ignorant bimbo simply because of her House. Just what was wrong with him? She'd saved him before, and this is how he repaid her? Well, that was another lesson learned. Never expect a _Slytherin_ to repay a favor…

"This is absolutely absurd. Dumbledore is here to look out for the interests of his students. _All_ of them. Even _Slytherins_ like you…"

"Are you _blind_ or _stupid_? He lets your kind run around the school like the bloody idiots you all are, causing mindless havoc for others, no regard for learning or the consequences of their actions. No regard for how they act towards others outside his precious Gryffindors... He nearly lets them get away with _murder_... Gryffindor is a House of vermin." He swung his fist from the table to the side angrily. It was the closest he thought he could get away with in making reference to the horrendous travesty justice that had happened with those bloody Marauders she'd been fraternizing with. He wasn't sure how much they'd told her, how much she knew. Hermione probably wouldn't have any knowledge of the incident he referred to; he couldn't see them telling anyone outside their inner circle about Lupin's... condition, even to brag about nearly killing a Slytherin and getting away with it with just some nominal detention. Something he was sure that would otherwise make those odious Gryffindor eyes light up in the telling. And, she likely wouldn't believe him even if he could tell her; but it didn't matter. It was the truth, and the Headmaster was a dreadful, biased old man, who, had the situation been reversed, would almost certainly have expelled at least half of Slytherin, Severus was sure.

Hermione shook her head, absolutely incredulous. She couldn't believe how deep Snape's irrational mistrust seemed to run. "_Murder_"? What on earth was he on about? The only murderers she knew of were Slytherins. Well, aside from… Pettigrew; but that hadn't happened yet, and certainly he wouldn't know of such accordingly.

"Whatever rubbish you say about us, at least Gryffindors aren't like you. At least we're loyal to our friends. You Slytherins would sell each other out in an instant if it benefitted you." Well, it mostly followed. It was the best retort she could think of. Sure there was Pettigrew, but again, Snape didn't know of him. Whatever momentary loathing she might have for the Marauders on aggregate, they certainly were at least loyal to one another – if not otherwise "honorable"; they at least embodied one of the House's virtues. And even Snape would have to recognize that…

Hermione's words struck a nerve much deeper and fresher in Severus than she probably even knew existed. "Gryffindors _loyal_"? The worst, the cruelest of all lies. He'd done everything for Lily, _everything_. He'd overlooked her blood status and House, even as a Slytherin. Merlin knows how many times he'd kept Avery and the others away from her until it'd practically become another one of the Slytherins' many unspoken rules to exempt Lily from any torment dished out on Gryffindors, or at least keep it minor and hidden from Severus. There was nothing he wouldn't have done for her. He'd destroy anyone who tried to harm her - Avery and his lot included if they were stupid enough to do so; under the right circumstances, if it came to it, he'd die for her. She was his first - in some senses, his _only_ - friend, the love of his life. There had been nothing in the world that had mattered more to Severus than seeing those brilliant green eyes of her sparkle happily.

And she'd betrayed him, betrayed his love and friendship, in the most terrible, painful way imaginable. He'd made one mistake, one bloody mistake, after years of absolute, unconditional love for her; and she couldn't even manage to swallow that stupid Gryffindor self-righteousness long enough to bring herself to forgive the one mistake of the person in the world who cared about her more than anything else. She, a Gryffindor, was the disloyal one. _Not_ him. And the worst part of it all. He _still_ loved her.

For a second it was as if Hermione had literally taken a knife and stabbed him. His eyes flashing with a pained expression at her words, his hands falling limp to either side of his body. He clenched his fists, a second or so later, a new hatred; a hot, burning one rising within him. One that, until this point he'd only ever felt for one other person.

It was one thing to trade insults, vague threats between Houses. Severus was far more than used to such. But not _this_... She _knew_... he was almost sure of it. She'd only been here a brief time, and hadn't been around to witness the events of the last year but... Potter or the blood-traitor Black, or one of those other big-headed imbeciles who'd poisoned his beloved Lily must have told her, must have bragged to her about it. She'd practically acted it out before, after all… His closest friend, the love of his life, the one person in the otherwise worthless world that he actually gave a damn about had betrayed him, hated him. And this vile Gryffindor swine was _mocking_ him over it...

She was absolute vermin. Just like the rest of them. No ... _worse_. Second only to James himself...

If only he could travel two years in the future right now, he thought darkly, painfully, to when he would finally be with the Dark Lord, he'd have casted Avada Kedavra right then and there. Gryffindor insolence was one thing. Lily was _everything. _All that mattered in the world. And this stupid girl was daring to talk about "Gryffindor loyalty" after all that had happened, surely knowing full well what he'd been through. Purposefully, sadistically opening the freshly formed wounds on his heart. Well, he wouldn't be the only one with open wounds, he thought darkly. So furious, so hurt, he forgot even his inhibitions against violence in a classroom. He whipped out his wand silently, aiming it right at her face, locking his eyes on her, clenching his teeth. "Sec-!"

But that was all he got out before he felt an arm yanking his own back, grabbing away his wand. Furiously he whipped his body around, dark hair cascading over his eyes, only to find himself staring face to face with Professor Slughorn who had evidently come to stand behind him. He must have just returned to the room. Suddenly, Severus's face became quite pale, as an unusually bewildered and worse for him, disappointed look came over the Professor's face.

"Severus!" he exclaimed crossly, "What on earth do you think you're doing?"

"I... I..." Snape could only stammer.

Slughorn exhaled sharply, sternly shaking his head. "Never in all my years would I think _you _of all my students... I'm _very_ disappointed in you. Fifty points from Slytherin and a week of detention. And another fifty if you don't march straight down to your dormitory for the rest of the evening."

Something flashed in Snape's eyes, almost as if he was going to contest the point - but to whom? Slughorn himself was Head of Slytherin, and Dumbledore sure as hell wouldn't take _his_ side in the matter. It was _so_ bloody unfair. Just like most everything in the worthless world. And so, hanging his head, he simply sighed heavily. "Yes, Professor", he muttered wearily, making his way out of the room, but not before shooting daggers at Hermione out of his eyes as he left. The message was clear enough. She might have humiliated him for now, but this _wasn't_ over, and there'd be hell to pay later.

Once Severus had finally left, Slughorn turned toward Hermione, a bit of a sad shake to his head. "Sorry about that. I can't right say what came over him. Quite out of character; he's normally one of my best students..." he frowned slightly, as if slightly modifying his impressions of the Slytherin. "Well, I suppose you can go as well. I'll clean up whatever's left... You are... alright, aren't you?" He asked, seeming still to be genuinely concerned and perplexed by Severus's sudden behavior.

It was only after Snape marched away that Hermione could breathe easily again. He was absolutely insane. Absolutely out of line. It was no wonder his sort went on to follow the Dark Lord. Absolutely vile. Evil might be a strong word to use, but she was contemplating it.

"I'm fine, Professor, thank you." Hermione added with a slight nod. And with that, she was off to the Gryffindor Dormitory, never more glad in all her life to be leaving the Potions classroom.

* * *

><p>Thankfully it wasn't dreadfully far from the Potions classroom to the Slytherin Dormitory. Severus wasn't sure how he'd even managed to hold his composure even that far. It was still mid evening, so there were of course, a dozen or so Slytherins out in the Common Room. All so far, completely unaware of what had just happened happened. They'd probably be furious at him if they knew - well, to the extent they'd be brave enough to show any open resistance to Lucius's protégé - but they'd still at least mutter about it beneath their breath, avoid him whenever possible, for the next week or so. Really though, he didn't even care. Hermione had been right on at least one bit: they weren't his friends in any true sense. If they hated him, it didn't matter, as long as fear of incurring the wrath of an inner-circle Death Eater who'd taking a liking to him could still keep them in line. When <em>she<em> hated him though...

Even if Slughorn hadn't mandated that he make his way to his dormitory immediately, Severus would have done as much. He couldn't bear to be around anyone right now, not even his supposed "friends". He was deeply relieved to find the sixth year boy's dormitory empty as he entered. Avery, Wilkes, and the others were probably out doing ... who knows what; it didn't matter. He was finally alone. The fresh wounds that terrible Gryffindor girl had opened could bleed out now. Collapsing on his bed, not even bothering to remove any of his robes, he shut off the lights, his head pressed into the pillow, the tears he'd fought so hard to hold back in public, feeling too pathetic to show, now streaming out, hot and salty against it.

He remembered when he'd first came here as a First Year. Back when the world seemed such a more beautiful, simple place. How, on the second or third day of class, Lily had asked him about House Points, what the actual purpose of them was. How it was even an effective form of punishment or reward, when all it did in the end was decide the decorations of the ending feast. And he'd just smiled, shaking his head, muttering something about idiots who only cared about their own houses, and their greatest goal was to undercut all the others. Then it just seemed a stupid relic of an older age, a pointless cold war between the Houses. It'd just seemed moronic to him then. He was a Slytherin, and his best friend in the world a Gryffindor. And to hell with anyone who said that shouldn't be.

Then his first time ever _losing_ House Points, after already having won somewhere near twenty-five or so in class for his rather adept knowledge. It'd been a late fall evening, the evening air crisp, but not yet chilling. They'd been planning it nearly all week, and the sky was finally clear enough. That night, slightly past midnight, Severus and Lily had both sneaked out of their respective common rooms, meeting on the astronomy tower under that beautiful canopy of stars. Before Hogwarts, he'd always loved to gaze at the night sky with her, but somehow, it seemed even more wondrous than ever that night. Her eyes had been so wide, so enraptured as he'd pointed out the various stars, the various constellations to her. Things he'd probably told her several dozen times before, but it was still fresh as ever to her.

It'd been perfect, and he'd only wished that moment could last forever. Their blissful attention so focused on the sky and each other, that they hadn't even noticed the approaching footsteps until the door at the top of the stairs creaked open. Lily's eyes had widened with fear. "Sev, what are we going to do?" she'd exclaimed, frantic at the thought of detention after some of the older students had teased her about Hagrid leaving first years in the Forbidden Forest, and she'd naively believed them. He'd told her to run, save herself. He'd buy her the time. She'd been unwilling, but he'd insisted, and so with a sincere, yet sad smile, Lily ran down the other staircase as fast as her legs could take her, not resting until she'd come panting into the Gryffindor Common Room.

Seconds later, Filch had arrived, snarling. "What's this now, students out of bed? Roaming the castle, were you?" Half an act, Severus stammered, trying to think of some excuse, really just trying to take as long as possible in hopes that Lily would get away safely. Disgustedly, Filch had marched Severus down to his office, adamant that he'd seen _two_ students up there, but Severus was just as adamant in denying it, saying that he'd been there alone. He'd ended up getting two detentions and fifteen House Points docked from Slytherin - ten for being out that late at night, and five for "lying". At that point, he was the lowest of the possible low in Slytherin, a half-blooded first year; and when the others had heard, they'd done everything but literally take the points out of his hide. But he didn't care. Lily got away safe, and that was all that mattered.

Now though, everything was so terribly different. He _did_ care about House Points now. He _did_ hate those worthless, arrogant, self-righteous Gryffindors now. Not for some ancient rivalry's sake, but for how each and every one of them was here and now. He'd always thought the Sorting Hat had made a mistake with Lily; that she was the one exception, the one who wasn't actually supposed to be a Gryffindor. But now he couldn't even honestly think that anymore.

The world was so unfair. Gryffindors had treated him like scum for years, poisoned his friend's mind against him, tormented him even on that. They were the greatest of sadists in existence. Yet so often paraded around like "heroes", like they were better than everyone else alive simply because that stupid hat had put them in the same house with all those other vermin. And whenever a Slytherin did anything in retaliation, it was always immediate grounds for punishment. And that stupid Hermione, now obviously in league with that terrible old man who'd pardoned the Gryffindors even when they'd tried to murder him, had joined their ranks. Thinking herself so much better than him, only because the stupid rules of the school let Gryffindors run around unimpeded and tied Slytherins' hands behind their backs.

He flipped over the pillow, it was uncomfortably wet. He vowed then and there that he'd get vengeance. It was personal now. More than just wanting to expose Dumbledore's scheming, he actively loathed Hermione, wanted to make her suffer as much as she and her kind had made him. Even if the opportunity never presented itself at Hogwarts, he'd be a Death Eater in two years. And ... he had a very good memory.

But even hatred could only last so long at holding back the waves of almost physical pain that Hermione had brought back to the surface. He'd fallen into sleep eventually, weary and drained. There was no relief in dreams though.

Again, and again the images flashed through his mind. That stupid word he'd said after those idiots had provoked him as so many times before. Lily's absolute refusal to forgive him, no matter how he'd pleaded. Her cold rejection and refusal to even acknowledge his existence at the train just days before. And all of it with that terrible girl's voice mocking him. 'At least Gryffindors are loyal to their friends.'

At some point he just blacked out, entering the mercifully empty void.


	11. In Defense of Mudbloods

_September 5__th__, 1976_

Of course the dreaded morning inevitably had to come.

Severus was awakened by a sort of clamor in the Common Room. "The hell they didn't!" a fifth year girl exclaimed.

"Yeah, they _did_. Regulus said he saw it with his own eyes." Another chimed in. "_Negative_ points... We went from forty to _negative_ ten in one night"

"I swear, when I find the person who did this..." the first girl was now glowering, "It's probably some stupid first year..."

By this point Severus was making his way down the stairs into the common room. Painfully aware of the conversation that was just now going on. Exactly as he'd dreaded.

"Hey Snape!" the fifth year called, "Some idiot went and lost us _fifty_ points last night..." she groaned, "What do you think we should do to them when we find out who it is?"

Severus just glowered, waving her off as he marched out of the Common Room. If that display hadn't been obvious enough, she'd learn the truth soon enough. Probably be furious at him for a few days like the rest of the Slytherins. He could expect rather nasty anonymous 'pranks' - he doubted anyone would be stupid to confront him to his face - in the days to come. But that was really the least of his concerns right now.

If the Slytherins didn't immediately know, the Gryffindors seemed to. Purposefully waiting for him, as he made his way to the Great Hall for breakfast. The Marauders. Damnit. The absolute _last_ thing he wanted right now.

"Thanks for the points, _Sev_." Sirius said, the four of them making their way up to him, the others unleashing a fit of mocking looks and spiteful laughter. Snape wanted to murder each and every one of them, but held himself back. The last thing he needed was to rise to their bait as well, and lose Slytherin _another_ fifty points. He inhaled sharply, clenching his fists. Reminding himself of how he had only wait two years before he could become a Death Eater and destroy all of them. He'd just have to be patient... Terribly difficult as that could be.

"_Lily_ was really thankful." James added, coming to stand on the other side. "Told me herself it was the best gift you ever gave her, _Sev_."

Snape merely shoved his way through. This was the absolute last thing he wanted to deal with now. They were sure to have Morsmordres floating over their homes in a few years. For now he'd just have to deal with it. Not raise to their bait; not do anything stupid and lost yet more points for his House.

"Won't even say 'you're welcome'? Tisk, tisk, you don't have many manners, do you, _Sev_?"

"High talk for a _blood traitor_…" Snape sneered. And with that, he walked off – surprisingly without being hexed. Maybe due to the number of potential witnesses, though that wasn't normally much of a deterrent, maybe because they found it more amusing to see what would happen when Severus went to interact with his fellow Slytherins after what had happened the night before.

Sullenly, he made his way to the Slytherin table in the Great Hall, sitting down, hanging his head. Word must have already circulated about the night before, because as he did, the three or four other Slytherins seated nearby abruptly got up and moved elsewhere. As if Severus were carrying some deadly plague. It ... was fine though. For once, he didn't care. For once, he just wanted to be left alone. He'd just sat there for a few minutes, staring at the empty plate in front of him. Not remotely hungry. He supposed it probably looked a bit out of his normal character, but then again, there was the matter of the House Points to account for that. And most Slytherins would be too busy loathing him to worry about what his "normal" expression ought to be.

As breakfast came to an end, he felt an arm on his shoulder. He almost threw it off, but instead turned around. It was Avery. Damnitall, not now...

"So..." the other sixth year had simply asked. "Is it _true_...? What they're all saying about you?"

Severus frowned. How to possibly answer this one. "Sort of..." he groaned, "Look, you know I wouldn't do anything stupid... Hermione, that new Gryffindor, who I got stuck in that detention with. She forced a fight, and when I went to deal with her, Slughorn intervened. Probably afraid of upsetting Dumbledore, since she's obviously working for him and... that's how it happened." Well, it wasn't exactly a lie, strictly speaking, as he saw it.

"Oh..." Avery blinked "So you mean it's ... _her_ fault."

"Well, yeah... She's a _Gryffindor_, what else would you expect?"

"Alright, good to know." The pureblood nodded with the same sort of look in his eyes that Severus knew all too well by this point. He was plotting, scheming, with whatever limited faculties he had. Avery was going to go and seek revenge for this, on Hermione, the person he thought responsible. Not that he ever really needed an excuse to bother Gryffindors - rather like the Marauders if Severus had ever stopped to think about it objectively; but he never really had - but now that this had happened, it was inevitable. Severus groaned inside. This wasn't going to end well, somehow he already knew it. But, it wasn't as if he could call off Avery's attack on Hermione and still save face. It beat the alternative. Severus just hoped Avery wouldn't do anything _too _stupid.

Not that he was opposed to attaining vengeance on her by any means. More than ever now he wanted to. But … crude methods would only backfire in the long run. Whatever, he didn't even care at this point.

"I'm going to my dormitory…" Snape muttered, standing up suddenly. At least until the matter blew over, he'd have to try and avoid dealings with other Slytherins. None would probably be stupid enough to oppose him to his face even over this – one of the perks of his de facto position – but that didn't mean that they wouldn't otherwise try to make his existence miserable. The sooner he got there, to the relative safety of his own personal dormitory – well, shared by the other four, but Avery at least seemed on 'his side' now, so it would probably be fine – the better. It wasn't like he wanted to deal with anyone now anyhow…

"Alright, see you later." Avery replied, even a hint of devious smile in his reply.

* * *

><p>Hermione awakened with the worst possible headache. Did everyone have to hate her…? She'd saved Snape's damned life – well, maybe not literally, but she'd protected him from what would probably have been pretty serious humiliation – and he'd tried to use some spell on her. Actually, what spells started with "sec" or "sek"…? She wasn't even sure. She couldn't recall any spell starting off that way – at least none that would be used in combat – and Hermione had read a <em>lot<em> of books. Of course she was glad to have not found out firsthand but… it was still really unnerving. He'd almost used it on her.

She thought she recalled Sirius saying something about Snape knowing more dark magic as a first year than most seventh years ever did. And now he was close to being a seventh year himself… Granted, she didn't necessarily think the most of the _present_ Severus, but she thought that statement at least was fairly believable. Well, unlike Snape evidently, she kept her studies to magic other than the Dark Arts. She had principles. So it probably wasn't surprising that she hadn't heard of something so… vile, evil, malignant.

That wasn't even what upset her really. That was about on par for what one should expect of a Slytherin in her six years of experience at Hogwarts. It was more… the Marauders. She hadn't expected it from them; members of her own House. Why was everyone so damned awful? If she could just stay in the Gryffindor girls' dormitory all day, she would. At least the other girls seemed nice enough…

But… she was hungry, quite hungry that morning for some reason. She'd awakened somewhat late it seemed, as the other four girls were already gone. Sighing a bit, she ran over to the washroom, quickly washing up, putting on her robes, and making her way down the stairs.

She'd just made it to the bottom of the stairs to the first floor when she felt someone sharply jerk her hair backwards. A wave of pain shot through her, and next she had the unmistakable feeling of a wand placed sharply against the back of her head.

"Come with me." The male voice demanded in a hushed, yet unmistakably threatening tone. "Resist or make too much noise and no one will find your body."

"Who are you? Where are we going?" Hermione demanded, complying for the moment, her mind racing with possible scenarios. With his wand against the back of her head like that and her other hand still holding onto her hair, she doubted she'd be able to grab her own wand, turn around face him and aim a spell before he'd be able to attack her.

"You'll find out soon enough." The other whispered. "Now don't say another word, or you'll regret it."

Only very rarely in her life did Hermione feel quite so frightened as she did now. Just what was going on? She couldn't even see who it was who was marching her off to Merlin-knew-where… What had she even done to … whoever it was? Was this _Snape's_ doing, some attempt at vengeance after his … insanity last night?

They marched for several minutes – what felt centuries – Hermione's heart beating in her throat the whole time. Where were the professors – hell, even other students – when she needed them…?

A few minutes later they came to a dead ending corridor. The boy holding her hair let go, only to bodily shove her into it. Painfully. Probably was going to leave a few bruises. But… as she turned that around, she realized that it was going to be the least of her worries. There, standing in front of her, in Slytherin robes, were two boys she recognized from DADA class; Snape's friends. And both had their wands trained right on her.

She wanted desperately to reach for hers, fight back; but they had the jump on her. If she made any such moves, they'd probably hex her before she had a chance to do anything. Just what had she even done to deserve this…? Was this the "reward" for going out of her way to help one of them…?

"What do you want?" Hermione demanded in a tone that sounded somewhat braver than she was feeling.

"Oh, she's a bit feisty…" Mulciber chuckled rather sadistically. "That'll just make this a bit more fun I think…"

"C'mon Mulciber let's hurry up and just deal with her before someone sees us. I think Snape's going back to the dorms, don't know how long he'll be there though." Avery replied.

That… was a somewhat odd thing to say, Hermione had to admit. So Snape wouldn't want the two of them to harm her like that? The night before seemed to prove the opposite quite conclusively. Well, it wasn't as if she could exactly interrogate them over this.

"I didn't do anything to you!" Hermione pleaded. "Just let me go!"

"Oh, I don't think so…" Mulciber grinned rather darkly, somewhat reminiscent of a spider looking down at its prey caught in its web. "I think it's about time we show this filthy little _mudblood_ what happens when she messes with the noble House of Slytherin…"

Both Slytherins raised their wands, pointed directly at her, preparing to strike. Hermione backed up to the wall, her hand in her pocket, reaching for her own, but knowing it'd probably be too little too late, trying to brace for the worst…

* * *

><p>Severus had nearly gotten back to his dormitory when it struck him. He … needed to go to the library, to get a book to finish his homework. Even with all this insanity going on, he still strove to be a diligent student and… well, even if it meant risking another encounter with them, or now even a disgruntled "fellow" Slytherin – he'd have risk it to get there…<p>

He was up to the first floor when he heard familiar voices in a nearby corridor. Avery, and Mulciber. And by the shriek that followed, evidently Hermione. Damnitall. Again, not that he didn't want revenge on her. He still did. Probably for a lot stronger of personal motivation than either of them, after the events of the night before. But he at least would prefer they be somewhat intelligent about it. Get her in some subtler way than just hexing her, giving her a few bruises. Exposing her story, getting Dumbledore sacked, her punished in accordance with whatever her crimes were seemed a lot more satisfying in the long run. And this sort of thing might damage those goals. He groaned a bit, waiting around the corner. Just out of sight. Debating whether or not to intervene.

But, he couldn't. It'd only make things worse if he did. He'd just barely managed to keep Avery "on his side" so to speak as far as matters were within Slytherin. If he came in, stopped him from doing what he felt he needed to do, it'd ruin that. Especially with Marauders being so vicious lately, he _needed_ Avery as an ally. For protection if nothing else. However stupid he could be at times, he was at least predictable. Not really "dependable" even, but predictable was good enough for Severus's plans usually.

Then, another thought occurred. This might actually be the best thing that happened to him today. There was some degree of vengeance from the night before and, if they were caught. If they were the most recent ones to lose House Points for Slytherin. Well, it'd take most of the attention off Snape himself. Things would improve relatively, even if Slytherin as a whole would be in a slightly worse position. Yeah. In a rather Machiavellian sense, it seemed the best thing to do would be to simply not intervene. If all went well, no one would even know he was there. He couldn't possibly be blamed. Hermione would be dealt with, the blame would be off him. All would be well. A slight pang of guilt welled up. She, after all, had - for reasons he couldn't comprehend – a day or so ago, rushed to his defense. And he was abandoning her in basically the same circumstances. But... she'd crossed him first. Made this mess in the first place. The negatives still outweighed the positives. Just because she'd acted stupidly in the defense of one who ought to be an enemy didn't mean he should.

Frowning a bit, he decided he'd listen in. Maybe... just to ensure they didn't go too far. Roughing her up a bit was probably alright but... Anything too serious, then he'd come along. Not say anything in particular against them, just that he'd heard a professor or something, he reasoned. A happy medium. He'd still be off the line. Avery and Mulciber would get some of their rage out, they'd be on his side. He'd never be blamed. Even Hermione herself probably couldn't really blame him there - not that he cared. And he'd still have a degree of immediate vengeance on her while granting some degree of mercy to silence his conscience, and more aptly, keep her well enough to be observed. Yeah, that sounded perfect.

So, remaining barely out of sight, Snape listened rather intently to the proceedings. Avery had said something regarding trying to hide it – from other students/staff, certainly; but also from him specifically. That triggered a bit of indignation in Severus. Not that he really was opposed to the concept of attaining vengeance on Hermione, but... he was deliberately doing this without Snape. Knowing that Snape wouldn't approve of such crude, risky methods, and doing it anyway in secret. Almost to spite him. He had half a mind to smack him then and there, but he reminded himself that however ... annoying Avery could be at times, Hermione was infinitely more so. And even if Hermione had "saved" him once, Avery had dozens of times - though he'd never admit it - and was far more ... predictable a "friend". And at least he didn't go out of his way to mock what had happened with Lily…

The next part though... "I think it's about time we show this filthy little _mudblood_ what happens when she messes with the noble House of Slytherin…"

At once, Snape's entire composure changed. His body tensed. That word. That terrible word. The one that had destroyed _everything_. Severus had heard it probably a hundred times before in earlier years with no reaction. Mulciber certainly wouldn't have thought anything of it. But now… after that terrible day, it was different. In an instant something snapped in Snape's mind. Too fast for any thoughts. A reflex, a trigger. A blinding rage took over. Instinct kicked in. He didn't even consciously realize what he was doing as he rushed into the corridor from behind them pulling out his wand, giving it a sharp jerk, aiming directly at Mulciber.

"PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!" he'd nearly screamed. Absolute, unadulterated hatred burning in his eyes.

In a second, Mulciber's body locked up, his arms and legs going rigid, falling to the ground with a rather hard thud. Absolutely livid, Severus knelt over Mulciber's body, his wand against the latter's face. Trying to think of the most painful way to dispose of him, Severus's left hand clenched into a fist, his wand mere inches from the other's horror-struck eyes.

"Snape!" Avery had shouted, somewhere between terror and outrage but the infuriated Slytherin with a flick of his wand wordlessly sent a wave of invisible energy towards him, without even breaking his deadly scowl from Mulciber. An invisible knife struck Avery's cheek, a deep gash forming as he howled in pain. Unvoiced, Sectumsempra lacked its full lethal potential, but in Severus's deeply enraged state, it'd been more than enough to inflict rather grievous injuries. Avery had stumbled back, clutching his cheek in agony, but Snape hardly even noticed. Avery was just an idiot, a bystander stupid enough to interfere with Snape's attention. It was Mulciber who had said the unforgivable. He was the one who was going to _really_ pay.

By now, Mulciber's paralyzed face had gone ashen white. Absolutely terrified. Snape inhaled sharply, blood pounding in his head. Time to destroy him...

Then suddenly, with a flash of horrible realization, it dawned on him just what he was doing. He'd just attacked a fellow Slytherin in defense of a Gryffindor – _other_ than Lily. And_ Hermione _of all Gryffindors, one of the worst at that. He _hated_ her. He might as well have just rushed to the aid of Sirius or James themselves… What the hell was he thinking? Even more in bewildered at his own actions than Mulciber himself, Severus quickly rose to his feet, stumbling back a few steps. Trying to think of some way, somehow to justify the reaction he'd just had. To, well… all of them. Obviously for very different reasons, but Severus wouldn't want either Hermione or his "fellow" Slytherins to have the slightest inclination of the actual thought that had rushed through his head, driven him to act as he had.

_Think, Severus, you bloody idiot, think!_ He thought desperately, as he quickly mouthed the counter-curse, pulling Mulciber back to his feet, and casting a spell to heal Avery's open wounds, buying himself at least a few precious seconds.

"What the hell, Snape?" Avery exclaimed irately, his lower lip actually quivering a bit. "What the hell do you think you're doing protecting _her_?"

In all honesty, Snape couldn't explain his motivations any better than Avery. It certainly hadn't been a rational move on his part. But he had to save face, somehow.

Thankfully, Snape was already a rather brilliant liar, and Avery certainly not the brightest wizard alive. And hadn't they muttered something about trying to hide this from him? Yeah, that'd have to do... "Because, you insipid idiot. There's nothing to be gained in just hexing her, however insufferable she might be. Dumbledore clearly favors her. The last bloody thing we need is _him_ breathing down our neck even more than usual and ruining _everything_ thanks to your stupid hairbrained antics!" Anger generally made a good mask for internal insecurity, something Severus knew far too well by now.

Rather out of their normal character, Avery and Mulciber looked almost … scared. They'd never seen Severus like this before. At least never towards them personally.

"And…" he added in a quite icy tone, a justification coming to mind that would probably get him off the hook at least with his fellow Slytherins. It wasn't the most comfortable thought in the world, but it'd have to do. "I have… _other_ reasons as well. We'll discuss it tonight ... in private, if you _must_ know… But _not_ in public. I'll deal with you then. Now leave… _now_!" he ended, speaking through clenched teeth and narrowed eyes, in a tone that might already seem to echo that which he'd come to use on unruly students in years to come. His dark eyes met one then the other of them dead in the eye making it absolutely clear that there was no room whatsoever for argument.

Avery ran off instantly; Mulciber stood there for a moment, almost as if he were still stunned, before suddenly turning and running off as well, almost whimpering, still a bit dazed from what had just happened.

Damnitall, tonight was going to be absolutely terrible. Snape figured the two of them were probably too frightened and embarrassed by what had happened to spread the story too much, but there was always the off-chance that someone had seen them. Actually, damnit. Severus looked around warily. He didn't see anyone else in the corridor presently, but… he hadn't really been paying attention to his surroundings the moment he'd struck. And it'd only take one person for the rumors to spread to the whole damned school. He already had formulated a good enough excuse to probably justify it with his fellow Slytherins, at least enough to keep any of them from directly opposing him. So on that end he was somewhat covered. But just the humiliation of it all. He, a Slytherin, had run to the defense of a _Gryffindor_ he himself thought he actively hated. He couldn't see how he could ever live it down…

Which brought his thoughts sharply back to the awkward present. Hermione was still standing there. She too had seen… _everything_. How the hell was he supposed to explain himself to _her_…? "I…" he huffed, looking down, awkwardly stumbling around his mind for some possible motivation he could have for attacking another Slytherin to protect her. But nothing came to mind. It simply wasn't a logical thing to have done. There was no possible justification he could come up with that would even moderately convince her. "Look," he said, trying to mask his own confusion under an attempted cold, confident tone, not entirely succeeding. "They'd been bothering me all day. And I didn't want them to go and do something stupid and lose Slytherin even _more_ House Points, and... I… wasn't thinking clearly. Don't read anything into it. It's definitely _not _personal. Just, forget it happened, alright?" He sighed, almost groaned at the end. Hoping that out of some twisted sense of gratitude if nothing else, Hermione might just drop the issue altogether. From what he'd already seen of her though, he highly doubted that would happen. If she had any intelligence at all - well, more than the two of _them_ had had - it'd be obvious that there was a lot more to what had just happened than his claims. Merlin, he'd gotten himself in a right nasty conundrum.


	12. Requirement of Confessions

**Author's Note: I'll keep this one relatively short, as this chapter turned out to be rather on the longer side again. I apologize, once more, profusely for the rather large delay in getting this out. And once more, most importantly: Thank you VERY MUCH to my devoted readers, old and new alike!**

_September 5__th__, 1976_

As the seconds began dragging on, it started to dawn on Snape just what a terrible position he'd gotten himself into. He was standing there in the corridor. Alone. With a Gryffindor. An injured Gryffindor. One he'd just about sent to Madam Pomfrey himself the night before – in detention, in front of a Professor. And the worst part of it all: he'd just saved her. If _anyone_ saw, if anyone found out, it'd be absolutely disastrous.

He needed to resolve the situation, and fast. From any normal student, he'd expect a degree of gratitude for what he'd just done – those brutes would have probably tore her up; he'd seen several times the end result of whatever student, usually a younger Gryffindor, who happened to earn their wrath for whatever perceived offense – but Hermione was a _Gryffindor_. For all their vaunted talk of "loyalty" and "honor", they had precious little of either to anyone outside their social clique. She'd probably still betray him in an instant, even now. And if someone walked by, a professor, a prefect, and saw him standing there next to an injured Hermione – well, they'd certainly probably take her word over his if she accused him. After all, who would believe the _true_ telling of things here…? It seemed utterly ridiculous even to him, and he'd just done it…

And if anyone else saw, if the rumors spread… He shuddered to even think what would come of that.

Hermione was, arguably, equally unwell. She'd just been attacked out of the blue by two Slytherins essentially without provocation – beyond being a "mudblooded" Gryffindor she supposed, a bit sullenly. That, terrible as it was, kind of at least made sense… At least it fit into the paradigm she'd built up over the past six years. Slytherins hated Gryffindors. They fought each other. That all made sense. It was almost routine by now.

The part she didn't get, the part that made her potentially more nervous even than the other two Slytherins was what Severus Snape had just done. She'd been alone, basically helpless – at least outnumbered and they had the jump on her. She might have been able to fight back, maybe, but in any case, it wouldn't have been pleasant. And … for whatever bizarre reason, he'd saved her. The same person who just the night before had tried to use some bit of dark magic or another on her. There was no logic in it at all. And whatever faults she normally drew with Snape – well even, maybe _especially_, she had to admit, of all the professors she'd ever known, he did tend to be one of the more… logical. At least when it came towards achieving his own ends.

This… didn't make any sense. For a second or so she held back, her wand still out, figuring the only possible reason Severus would have to stop them would be in hopes of dealing with her himself. That kind of would make sense… He really did seem the type to want to settle vendettas personally… And when he showed up, he certainly seemed enraged.

But… that didn't happen either. At least, if that were his goal, he was doing a pitiful job of it. Ideally in that case he'd want to attack right away, while she was still more or less off-guard; not take time to counter his spells on the other two, try and excuse himself to them, the turn to her, give some nearly incoherent rambling 'justification' that almost led her to believe he himself was just as confused as she was.

'_Forget it happened_'? Was he serious? Like she was just supposed to ignore all that just had happened, the two other Slytherins attacking her unprovoked, Snape of all individuals stopping them. It was just too much, too absurd to possibly let go. She needed answers. And anyone with more intellect than a troll could see he hadn't given her them.

"No." Hermione said flatly, taking a few steps towards Snape deliberately. He in turn started walking backwards, but she was moving somewhat faster, until she was standing nearly in front of him. She wasn't going to let him just run away again. Certainly not after what had just happened. "I need answers. Now. Why did they attack me…?" she paused, actually in the grand scheme of things that question didn't seem as important. They'd acted fairly predictably after all. Snape was the aberration. "Why… did you stop them…?" she frowned heavily for a second, her eyes meeting his, trying to figure out what possibly was going on his head. He seemed absolutely volatile, unpredictable. Far more "chaotic" than his older self for certain. It was kind of unnerving really…

Honestly, Snape hadn't expected Hermione to take his botched justification at face value. Hell, he was still deeply suspicious of her own motives in "saving" him the other day, and all she'd done was ask the Marauders to stop. He'd… nearly murdered Mulciber right in front of her eyes and used a spell she probably didn't even know existed – well, hopefully Dumbledore didn't have that much intel at least – on Avery, his own Slytherins. In her eyes, without provocation from them. Sure it looked… extremely odd. Her suspicion made sense; he'd be at least as much if their positions were switched, he had to admit.

That didn't change the fact that – even if it was just effectively an unintended byproduct of a reflexive desire to kill Mulciber for saying the one damned word in the English language that could elicit such a response from him – he had saved her. She was supposed to show gratitude, shoot maybe a curt "thank you" at best, and just … _leave_. Forget it. Not put him through an interrogation. And she still wondered why he hated Gryffindors…

He bit his lip again, obviously uncomfortable, weighing his options. She was injured. If he wanted to, he could probably outrun her in her state quite easily. But that wouldn't solve anything. All she'd likely do then would be to run to a professor, report the incident – the whole school would know in a matter of hours. And probably if he deserted her like that, she'd just have all the more reason to name him as another one of the attackers. They certainly wouldn't believe his side of things. He hardly did.

He needed to contain the situation – and fast. "They…" he started off, still looking a bit flustered, his usual confidence a bit lacking. "They attacked you because they're _idiots_." He finally settled, genuine derision in his voice from the years of having to deal with their harebrained antics; none, however, had landed him quite this deeply into a conundrum. "Acting without thinking. Always rushing to violence." A rather accusing tone, deliberately ignoring the fact that less than twenty-four hours before, he himself had been just about to use a spell on her that would have caused far more harm than the two of them were likely capable of – indirectly the catalyst of this all.

"Honestly, by this point, pretty much everyone in Slytherin has reason to hate you. But… generally we're more intelligent about dealing with such things." He ended, a vaguely threatening tone, but not stating anything explicitly.

"As for my own… actions…" he looked down at his feet for a second. What the hell was he supposed to say? _'Oh yes, I just happen to be in love with Lily Evans who hates me because I called her a mudblood, so I wanted to murder Mulciber when he said the word, and that's why I saved you.'_ Yeah, that'd be bloody 'brilliant', wouldn't it…?

He had to say _something_ though. He was painfully aware that each passing second brought with it a greater chance that someone might happen to discover them. He'd have to come up with something to satisfy her, and quickly.

"Well, why did _you_ stop those idiots the other day…?" he shot suddenly, an almost accusing tone. But he sharply waved it off almost as soon as he said it. Almost as if he meant to pose it rhetorically from the start.

"Fine…" he sighed sharply in concession. "I suppose you're not an absolute idiot. Not as stupid as _they_ were…" he sighed again, obviously uncomfortable saying even this. "Of course there's more to my … motivations than I initially let on. I'd… expect normally someone in your position to express gratitude, but since you're a _Gryffindor_, your reaction isn't surprising… Well, if you _insist…_" he frowned. "I'm willing to indulge your curiosity … a bit… If only to silence that abnormally large mouth of yours… _Not_ here though…" he added quite quickly. It was too public, way too much risk of discovery. If… if it was inevitable that she was going to press this issue, and there was no feasible means of escape without making more trouble for himself; well, the only thing he could think to improve his lot was at least to escape any chance of discovery. "Room of Requirement." He added tersely, then suddenly realizing that, in the small chance that her story actually were true, that she was really an exchange student, she wouldn't know where, or likely even _what_ that was… "Seventh Floor. If you want your answers so badly, you'll have to get them there… And, if you tell anyone of this; either what happened here, or my own … motivations, I'll find out. And… believe me when I say, you'll wish I _hadn't_ intervened."

Hermione frowned. Snape was still acting quite erratically. What on earth was going on? It still wasn't making any real degree of logical sense. And a nagging part of the back of her mind wondered about his insistence on a change of venue. The Room of Requirement… That could be … anything… Was he leading her into a trap? Well, logically that wouldn't make sense. If his goal had been to harm her – which in itself would make sense – it would have been most prudent for him to have acted immediately. Not given her time to catch her guard, recover a bit. It seemed … pretty stupid on his part to throw away such a tactical advantage. Let alone the three on one numbers he could have had if that were truly his goal. Strange as it seemed, the logical conclusion was… he didn't want to harm her…? Or at the very least he had some other, superseding goal with interests conflicting with that immediately. Though what such a goal could be eluded her. Something about what he said to the other Slytherins though, about 'other reasons'. Well, in a way, it made her more nervous than if he'd just hexed her to begin with. At least she just could have dealt with that. A fight would have been over one way or another by now. She'd either be with Pomfrey or he would, the opposite party would probably have a detention, and that'd be the end of it. Now though, this lingering apprehension, that was infinitely worse.

"Fine." She finally added, a few moments of silence later. More or less, she needed answers. If it were a trap – well, if he was going to fight her, he was going to fight her. Here or in the Room of Requirement, it'd still be in a one on one duel. The odds would be the same either place. But, if she could only get her answers there, then fine. It was what it was.

"Good." Severus said curtly, then frowning as he looked her over. She had a prominent bruise on her forehead, already starting to turn a color. Her eyelid on the same side was swelling; there was a large bruise on her right arm. That… wouldn't do. If anyone saw her like that, questions would be asked. Questions he wouldn't want asked. Shaking his head a bit derisively at her, as if blaming her for getting hurt, being stupid enough to get attacked by the other two Slytherins and land him in this mess, he pointed his wand at her – instantly earning her apprehension and a wand in his own face.

"Relax" he sighed, shoving her hand away. "Just… going to use a healing spell before you bruise any worse. Can't have you looking like _that_…"

"Whatever…" Hermione muttered, still holding her wand vaguely in his direction in case he tried anything, but feeling slightly better after he murmured a few healing spells in her direction.

"There." Severus nodded, confident that her injuries were now much less noticeable. "Well enough to travel?" he inquired drily, really not giving a damn how she was so long as it was expedient to his ends.

"I'm Fine…" Hermione huffed, still quite wary of Snape.

"Good." Snape replied curtly. "Let's be on our way then. And… don't follow too closely now. I'd rather _not_ anyone see us together…"

Hermione just nodded, not wanting to argue the point anymore. Besides, it was mutual.

* * *

><p>Five minutes or so later, they'd both arrived in front of the entrance to the Room of Requirement. Snape had had Hermione following him at something close to half a flight of stairs behind him – close enough that she could still see him, know he wasn't attempting to flee the situation – which probably would have led to her informing the school authorities and only made things all the worse – but far enough behind that it wouldn't be obvious that they were travelling together. But finally they were at the top of the seventh flight of stairs, the wall concealing the entrance before them.<p>

"Alright…" Snape started off, deciding it would be best to enter the room as expediently as possible – the longer they spent standing outside it, the greater chance they had of discovery. And this high up in the castle, this close to the Gryffindor dorms, that couldn't be good. "To enter the Room of Requirement, all one needs to do is walk past that wall three times, thinking the same thought continuously. Something even _you're_ probably capable of…"

Hermione just nodded, thinking better of rising to his bait, telling him she already knew as much, and probably _more_ about the Room than he did. But realistically, how could she account for such knowledge; he was suspicious enough of her as it stood without giving him _further_ cause.

"Well, I was thinking the basic parameters to be along the lines of 'somewhere no one but Severus Snape and Hermione Granger can enter; somewhere where neither's magic can harm the other.' So we aren't disturbed by any unneeded 'visitors', and … can focus on our … discussion in relative peace of mind."

It was actually somewhat of a major relief to Hermione to hear Snape say as much. Sure his intentions in all this were still highly suspect, almost certainly far from pure. But he was as much as confirming that he didn't intend to cause her any physical harm. Not at present at least. Although it rationally followed already that if such had truly been his goal, he would have already done so, relatively precluding the possibility. "I agree." Hermione nodded slightly. "That seems… sensible." Feeling odd at the very sound of the words coming out of her mouth.

Without another word, Severus moved to pace back and forth along the wall thricely, Hermione starting a few paces behind him. And, momentarily later, the door revealed itself. Stepping inside they found a relatively small, somewhat dimly lit room, sort of reminiscent of a library. Shelves of books lined the wall on every side, aside from a modest fireplace at the far end; in the center of the room a small wooden table with a rather comfortable looking chair on either side. Almost like a personal study.

Snape couldn't help but find it slightly odd that the room turned out the way it had. Namely, the only specific details he'd outlined, that they'd have been sure to agree on was the allowance of only the two of them and protection from each other's spells. He'd said nothing outright about the décor or layout of the room. In the scheme of what he was trying to accomplish, such was essentially irrelevant. When it pertained to such, he merely relied on his own subconscious mind for the sort of environment he felt most comfortable in; somewhere quiet, peaceful, secluded, filled with books to expand his knowledge of the world. A sentiment he very much doubted a "typical Gryffindor" would share. So it was a bit odd the room seemed to have taken only his mind into account in constructing the room.

He shrugged the idea off though. It was just a mere trivial curiosity. He had much larger, more important matters at hand. The scheming "Slytherin" side of his brain had been hauled into overdrive the past dozen or so minutes since they'd started off from the corridor. The walk up the stairs had bought him a few precious minutes to think over how to respond to the queries that were certainly about to come; that he couldn't feasibly delay any longer.

Unfortunately, he still didn't have the best answers in mind. It really was one of those impossible conundrums in which case any possible choice led to failure. All that remained was to choose the path of least damage. With a curt nod, he motioned for Hermione to take a seat opposite from himself. If his impressions of the matter meant anything, they'd probably be there for a good while. They might as well get comfortable.

Inhaling sharply for a moment, Severus broke the silence. Attempting a rather confident tone – certainly far more so than he felt internally; but, this really was a game of appearances. The stronger he seemed to appear, the better. "A rather interesting position we're in, isn't it? Here in this room… I know what you are; I suspect you as well know what I am. It also follows that, since both of us are still here, neither has _proof_ of the knowledge we each hold on the other."

Hermione's eyes shot with protest. The nerve of him. He was still on about accusing her of working for some nasty scheme of Dumbledore's or another. And… what was it she was supposed to "know" about him anyhow. His association with the Death Eaters? Until this point she'd really assumed that would have happened after graduation. They didn't normally recruit students. But since he was bringing it up in much the same tone…

"Oh, deny it all you want, but the evidence speaks for itself." Snape said, waving away her protests. "We both want answers from the other, or else we wouldn't be here. Even you can't deny that."

Well, that much followed, she guessed…

"So let's be fair about this. We're both, I suspect - as recent events in both our cases seem to prove – rather more intelligent than the more… brutish members of our respective Houses. As we both agreed in entering here, there's nothing to be gained in resorting to violence over this. Instead I propose an arena of the mind. A 'game' of sorts if you will… You ask me a question, I ask you a question. We both respond as honestly as the other party seemed to answer. It's only fair I think. If we didn't both have questions we wouldn't both be here."

"I think…" he continued quickly, not allowing Hermione a possible chance of cutting in, "It's best to do this in chronological order. So, I'll pose my question from earlier: Why did you stop those idiots from harassing me…?"

Hermione sighed heavily. Why was he bringing that up again? The answer was incredibly simple, she'd already given him it more or less there. And he didn't believe her then, certainly wouldn't now. Was he just using this as an excuse to avoid her question altogether. Well, unfortunately, he was right on one part at least. She did have a rather strong curiosity, desire to have her burning queries answered. So if it took answering this to get to that point, so be it. He couldn't feasibly delay any longer after this.

"I told you. I stopped them because what they were doing was _wrong_, and I couldn't stand for it. Even – no especially – from someone of my own House." She looked away for a second, before meeting his gaze, her eyes quite adamant, "Now, I'd like my own questions answered."

"Oh?" Severus frowned slightly. "A _Gryffindor_ with a code of morals? How… absurd... Sure they have their vaunted virtues they claim, parade around thinking they're so much better than the rest of us. But when it comes to interactions with anyone outside their House… Well, you've seen as much I think…"

"Fair is fair though. So, I'll answer your question as honestly as you seemed to answer mine." It was… an uncomfortable thought, but he'd come up with _something_. Something less horrible than a _complete_ telling of the truth at least. As the saying went, when falsehood failed, lie using the truth. There was enough, he thought, that was already common knowledge. Something Hermione herself probably knew as much already through those despicable Marauders and their lot, or if she hadn't surely would soon enough.

"I wasn't… _always_ a Slytherin, you know…" He started off slowly, trying to mentally stabilize himself, keep his thoughts, emotions as neutral as possible. It was … incredibly hard, being so close to such a deep emotional wound, but if he was careful, he could probably pass it off. "I used to have a friend as a child, before all this. She got sorted into _Gryffindor_, and I Slytherin of course. And… partway through Second Year… when the two of us were still on good terms…" he sighed. "That idiot Mulciber attacked her. And used rather similar language to what said to you before. So, I overheard it, it flashed that memory, and I acted without much more thought than that."

It took Hermione a moment to even realize her mouth was ajar. Severus was – or had been at least – friends with a Gryffindor? A friendship between a Slytherin and Gryffindor in itself seemed implausible, absurd, but with _him_ – downright impossible. He seemed … serious though. And, it'd be a rather stupid lie to tell; one that she could easily enough inquire into to confirm or deny later.

The part at the end was what really perplexed her though. _Mulciber had used similar language_… Well, she distinctly recalled him calling her a "mudblood" nearly immediately before Snape had intervened. Which was a rather horrid term; one describing only muggle-borns. Even Slytherin brutes like Mulciber probably were intelligent enough at least to use such a term 'properly'. And… of the sixth year Gryffindor girls – those who would meet the categories of being in Severus's year and sorted into Gryffindor, only two were muggleborn. Mary MacDonald and … Lily Evans.

Of the two, only Lily made any real sense. Well, on one level it really, really didn't… Harry's own mother, friends with… him? If anyone else had told her something so absurd, she'd be torn between laughing and slapping them. But it seemed much more probable than the only other choice, all things considered. And… he actually seemed serious about it. There was just something about his tone, the underlying tension in it. If he was lying, being deceptive in his overall narrative, such wasn't in that one point at least.

And… the more she thought about it, the more it made sense of certain earlier events she'd seen. Snape was good at potions obviously. And, if they'd been friends in the past, like he suggested – well, he'd probably helped her out with it? Even Slytherins helped their friends… maybe? And thus, Lily had seemed better at Potions than she was.

Since Snape had spoken in past tense, it was obvious that he no longer was Lily's friend. Something must have happened, the "terrible thing" Lupin referenced – which now made sense as hurting her on a deeper level than others; a supposed "friend" doing something to her… And because of that, it'd been really upsetting to Lily to see Snape praised for his work alongside _another_ Gryffindor – not her. Reminding her that she and Snape weren't friends anymore, of what Snape had done to her.

Hermione was still somewhere between shock and indignation at her conclusion – Snape had been Harry's mother's friend and then turned on her, viciously. Not that it was exactly surprising coming from a Slytherin, particularly one as vindictive and petty as he seemed to be. But… there was another side to this matter, something that deeply confused her. If… he really had turned against Lily, disliked her now. Why would he have been motivated to attack fellow Slytherins, save _her_ supposedly based off memories of having done similar in the past to protect Lily…? She'd seen the look in his eyes when he attacked them, a much deeper hatred than she'd normally attribute even to him. It had obviously been personal – against them at least. So it seemed, on some level at least, maybe he still held some tiny degree of devotion to the memory of their friendship? Maybe there actually still was a degree of humanity to him after all.

She wanted to ask specifically, inquire as to all that had occurred between them. This was all so new, so strange; information she'd never considered before. Her mind was racing a thousand miles a second trying to process the implications of it all, Snape's character, his loyalties, his choices. There were still way too many contradictions. He had to be lying on at least some points, but this information seemed valid…

"Lily…" was all that she could say, breathily. Halfway between a question and a statement.

"Yes, _Lily_…" Snape replied in a rather dry tone, trying to present it as simply a stoic matter of fact. "So, now that I've satisfied your curiosity there, I trust that that's the end of this?" His tone remained relatively flat, but there was a slight hint of a threat, not to speak of this to anyone. He hadn't really divulged any information that wouldn't have been common knowledge, but the incident itself – he didn't want others hearing of it. That was their deal; it remained to be seen if she would hold to it.

"So what happened?" Hermione asked, slightly regaining herself, ignoring Snape's earlier questions. "If you were friends with Lily Evans, I mean, why aren't you any longer?"

"That…" he said, rather tersely, "Is _none_ of your concern. I'm sure those vermin in your House have already told you as much, so your transparent tactics won't work on me."

"They… didn't tell me everything." Hermione admitted, changing tactics slightly. Angering him wasn't going to help; but if she could arouse his sympathies, however slight, she might be able to get him to divulge more, bring some clarity to what seemed a very muddled image. "And… I'd like to hear your side of things. Get the full story before I make any lasting judgments." It might have been mostly faux sympathy, but she was genuine in wanting the information at least.

"Fine…" Snape snapped. "If you _must_ know, the two of us parted ways due to her refusal to see reason, her inability to see her true interests for what they were, her preferences of the vile and inferior to the worthy. She turned on me, not the other way around. She, once my friend, turned out to be, in the end, just another typical Gryffindor. No real honor or loyalty for anyone outside their House, 'friend' or otherwise." The words stung acerbically coming out of his mouth, infinitely more painful internally.

Hermione couldn't say she was satisfied with the answer. He was still speaking in such vague terms. Sure, he was probably, technically right when he said it wasn't a matter of her rightful concern, but this involved a lot of affairs she was involved with, and… And he still insisted on deriding Gryffindor, even now, even when she'd tried to listen, even when he supposedly once had a 'friend' in the House. She couldn't help but feel rather exasperated, indignated by this point.

"And what exactly is so terrible about Gryffindor?" Hermione inquired, "A few of the others are kind of … out of line, I'll admit. But I stood up to them, didn't I? And you said you used to be friends with Lily. So, it's not like we're really all bad, are we? Whatever you say about us, even you have to admit, we're still a better lot than those two from earlier. And maybe if you weren't so hostile towards Gryffindor, you'd still be friends with Lily. I mean, I certainly couldn't be friends with someone who constantly treated my House like scum…"

"You don't _ge_t it do you?" Severus exclaimed, suddenly standing up. Once more, she'd clearly struck quite close to a nerve. This time with a bit more direct information. By now he was visibly exerting himself just to hold back tears that threatened to well up in his eyes. He sighed angrily, throwing his hand in a diagonal motion. He wasn't, he couldn't show weakness in front of a Gryffindor – particularly _her_…

"It's one thing when they would just ridicule me. Destroy my work. Steal my own spells and use them against me. Hide behind school rules and numbers to attack me off guard. They're cowards. Degenerates. And they'll get what's theirs in the end. I'll make sure of that much…" he ended darkly, a very personal fury burning in his eyes.

"All t_hat_ I can rebuild, restore, move on, but…" the pained expression suddenly coming back to the forefront "They…" his eyes were glistening now despite all his efforts. He was wavering for a second on whether or not to go on, but it was too late. The levy of pain and sorrow were already spilling over. She'd already seen enough. He inhaled sharply, trying to steady himself, still visibly just millimeters from breaking down.

"The one real friend I ever had." The words just came pouring out now. "_They_ took her. Poisoned her mind so deeply that she turned against me. Hates me so much she can't even look at me; won't even acknowledge my existence anymore. No matter what I do, how many times I _begged_ for her to come back, that I still care about her, that I was sorry, she just _hates_ me!" A hot tear was now trickling down either side of his face, but he didn't even notice.

He punched the surface of the table angrily, the pain radiating from his knuckles that forced him to reflexively grab it with his other hand unmatching the much greater mental anguish he was undergoing. "And it's all because of _them_! They destroyed the one thing in this worthless world that actually matters! And they don't even have the decency to keep word of their foul deeds to themselves. I can't even walk through the hallways, to class without them … purposefully… going out of their way… to remind me… Turn it into one of their stupid jokes… It's not even enough for them that I have to see her nearly every last day in class, knowing that there's _nothing_ I can do to ever get her back… But they… everyone in this damned school has to _mock_ me over it…" He clenched his fists, fingernails digging into his skin. "Including _you_…" he added sharply, accusingly.

"So yes, Hermione. Maybe somewhere between making Lily hate me so bad that she'll _never_ forgive me and mocking me daily over it, I've lost respect for Gryffindor. Sorry. You're right… You're still so much better than us Slytherins. We're not worth the dirt under your feet. I deserve this just for being put in this damn House. Forgive me for thinking one of you actually had some humanity. That she cared. That she was my friend. That she wasn't like _them_, wouldn't do _this_… Guess I _was_ pretty stupid after all, wasn't I? _You win_… Is that what you wanted to hear?" He sighed, sounding more exhausted, broken than even anger. Even hatred only worked so long as a shield.

He… collapsed, falling into the chair, setting his face against the surface of the table, his arms hanging limply. Forgetting for a moment that Hermione was even there. The worst, the most painful part of it all, the part that he couldn't even bring himself to say out loud, running through his mind. It _hadn't_ been the Marauders' fault that he'd lost Lily. Not really. Sure they'd provoked it. Sure they'd exacerbated it. Sure without what they'd done that day, the opportunity would have never arisen, but…

_He'd_ been the one to call Lily that horrible name. _He_ was the one who betrayed her friendship and love, hurt her so terribly that she couldn't even bear to look at him anymore. As much as he hated the Marauders, fanaticized about destroying them, killing them; as much as all that, he hated himself more. Lily was beautiful, _perfect_. She deserved _perfection_ in return. For years he'd striven to better himself, make himself somehow good enough to be worthy of her. She'd been the core motivation of everything. And he'd failed her, failed his one purpose in life. In itself, it was but one act, one transgression but it'd been an affront to _her_. He was flawed, fallen. He'd _hurt_ her, and so he didn't deserve her – if he ever did.

The worst part of it all wasn't even her scorn, her hatred for him. Surely he deserved it. It was just… he'd hurt her. Lily was hurt and there was _nothing_ in the universe he could do to help her. _That_ was the most terrifying thought.

Hermione once again found herself lost in silence for a few moments, her lower lip actually quivering a bit. At first, when he'd started his tirade, she'd wanted to object, fight back, defend the honor of her House, but now… It was obviously real. She couldn't believe it, of any Slytherin really, but especially him. But it was real, it had to be. He still did care about Lily's friendship, wanted to restore it. And, the Marauders; they'd done something terrible to destroy it, drive the two of them apart.

She'd question why that'd be the case – but no, that followed perfectly. They really did seem, from what she'd observed, quite intent on causing suffering to Severus. They really were quite petty. So surely, if he'd been friends with Lily, someone in their same House. Of course she wouldn't put it past them to try to destroy that friendship, turn Lily against him. Just another one of their sick jokes.

It was… really a strange thought, but, she actually felt sorry for him. She could remember how awful it felt when Ron, someone she'd counted as one of her closest friends, had turned on her, gone out with Lavender, publicly, just to spite her. How the whole school seemed to be gossiping about it; she couldn't even privately wallow in despair because it kept on being brought up. Severus seemed to be in the same position, if even somewhat worse, in that active third parties were involved, purposefully sabotaging things between him and Lily.

Even if he was a Slytherin, _no one_ should have to endure that. She couldn't help but feel a new pang of righteous fury burning her against the Marauders. The nerve of them! Remus especially, for going on about how Snape had 'hurt Lily'. And maybe there'd been some contrived circumstance where he had. But it was obvious; painfully bloody obvious that he still cared about her, wanted to be her friend. It wasn't him that was the stopping force.

Really, any way she looked at it, she wanted, needed to help him. She'd promised herself to help Lily out. Obviously this matter was causing her a great deal of distress, anguish. If somehow their friendship could be restored, it'd put Lily back in a better state, she was sure. And, even to a Slytherin, what the Marauders had done here was absolutely terrible. If Snape really had been friends with someone so kind, so good as Lily; obviously he hadn't always been truly the cold-hearted, 'evil' archetype she'd considered him in the past. There _was_ humanity to him like anyone else. And those absolute… well, 'degenerates' really was a fitting term for what they were doing, were trying to take that from him. No wonder he hated Gryffindors so much.

Maybe, even, it sort of made sense of – if not absolutely justifying – why he went on to join the Dark Lord, or already had. Lily was, as he described his only 'real' friend; certainly his only _good_ friend, as far as Hermione had observed. And lacking her influence in his life, with only a strong, personal hatred for four who would go on to be influential members of the First Order, she could see how he'd be drawn quite easily toward a faction that wanted to kill them. It probably wasn't the only draw for him, but certainly a compounding factor. Lacking that, and with Lily's friendship, her advice, he might well have gone the other way. And maybe, maybe it wasn't too late.

Any way she looked at it, she had an absolute duty to help him here if it was at all humanly possible. "I… I'm sorry…" Hermione said softly, a hand on his shoulders. A bit surprisingly, Snape didn't even angrily throw it off; he seemed so depressed, so hurt, he didn't even care. "I really didn't know. But…" she continued. "I'm in the same House, the same dorms as Lily. Maybe… I can talk to her. Tell her you still want to be friends. See if I can work it out for you?"

Snape lifted his head here. Any logic would point to it being an obvious ploy, some devious scheme or another on Hermione's part; playing off his obvious desire for Lily that he'd so stupidly let slip in front of her, to use against him as part of Dumbledore's foul plot. She didn't care about him and Lily; how could she possibly – she was one of _them_!

But, if there was even the faintest hope that she was partly telling the truth, the faintest hope that Hermione might actually talk to Lily, get her to listen, restore the friendship they once had. That would be worth … everything. If she was lying – which in all probability she was – no good would come of it. But in the tiny chance she was honest. Lily was worth enough to trust her, even if it was just a fool's hope.

"If…" he started off, still shaking a bit, trying to steady himself. "If you could do that for me… you'd have my eternal gratitude."


	13. A Strange Alliance

**Author's Note: Alright, trying to keep things short again. Of course, another huge THANK YOU to all my subscribers. You guys are awesome! ^_^**

**And Rawenclaw, you pass you NEWTS in Divination by any chance? xP**

**Also, in general, sorry that this chapter's a bit shorter. Just, the tone of what comes next is rather.. different, so I thought this was the most logical breaking point of things...**

_September 5__th__, 1976_

It was a really, really bizarre thought; but Hermione Granger – a Gryffindor girl with dubious affiliations at best – might have just become the closest thing Severus had to an ally in the one thing that mattered most to him: winning back Lily's friendship. Was it all a ruse? Maybe, probably. Logic would point that way at least. Particularly with how involved Dumbledore seemed to be. But… she said she was going to try, to talk to Lily, try to get her to see reason again.

It was hard to trust her really, considering the circumstances, but… He wanted to. If there was hope, even the faintest glimmer of hope that he could earn Lily's forgiveness, that things could be right again, he'd take it from whoever offered. Even if she was working for Dumbledore, even if this was just a concession in Dumbledore's schemes to set up for some greater victory for the odious old man, he didn't care.

If Dumbledore was calculating Lily as Snape's weakness, unfortunately he was calculating correctly. Severus would gladly give away all his worldly possessions – what little money of his mothers still remained in Gringotts after his father's ravishings, the spells and brews he'd created and all other such potentially valuable knowledge, all that he'd worked so hard for in life – without a second thought he'd trade that all away just to have Lily's affection again. So when Hermione had offered to talk to Lily, it seemed far too good to be true. Something he'd be an absolute idiot to let pass him by.

"Thank you…" was all Severus could really say, smiling weakly. He was at least a little more stable now. There was no way really to gauge her honesty at this point – whether or not she was actually going to intervene on his behalf still remained to be seen – but he didn't dare risk jeopardizing the chance that she might be telling the truth.

"Do you think maybe you could talk to her before tomorrow evening and we'll meet here again then to talk about what happened?" There was a distant hope in his eyes, but a hope nonetheless.

"I… well…" Hermione frowned for a second thoughtfully thinking it over. Tomorrow would be Monday, classes again. It might be difficult to find a time to talk to Lily alone then. But that evening would work. "I can do that yeah. Obviously I can't promise to change her mind just talking to her once… But… I'll try." She nodded slowly, sincerely. "What time do you want us to meet here?"

At that Severus looked down again, awkwardly. He'd just remembered, he had detention every evening for the coming week. Ironically for trying to attack her of all things. "Actually…" he looked rather uncomfortable; not really keen on wanting to bring up the fact that he'd tried to harm her less than twenty-four hours ago when she was potentially doing him the greatest favor of his life. She was a Gryffindor, sure, but if this was all true, alienating her would be really counterproductive. And… fine, he felt rather guilty over it now. If it was all true at least; which technically remained to be seen.

"Actually…" he said, catching his voice finally. "I have detention every night for a week. So I don't know how it'd work. And, about that..." Hermione was about to say something, but he cut her off, wanting to get the next bit out for certain. "I'm … sorry about what happened last night. I'd… been under a lot of stress obviously this year; and… I thought, mistakenly, that you were ridiculing what happened between Lily and I, so I just snapped. But, if you honestly didn't know, like you said; and especially if you're wanting to help me make up things with her. Well, I'm sorry. That was … out of line. It won't happen again."

"It's…" Hermione sighed slightly. "Well, we all make mistakes I suppose. No… real harm done, since the spell didn't actually go off. And… you rather made up for it earlier when you stopped those other Slytherins from doing the same. So… apology accepted I guess."

"Well, at least _you_ can forgive…" Severus muttered, looking somewhat more distraught at the rather recent memories of the Fat Lady, the train…

Hermione frowned. 'Forgive'…? That was the second time he'd mentioned it, come to think of it. In reference, presumably to Lily. Had he done something to her after all? Well, it seemed to partially corroborate Lupin's telling of things, but… obviously Snape was really, truly sorry about what had happened. She wanted to ask what he'd done, but that might be pressing too far. Especially right now. Whatever he might think about Gryffindors in general, she _didn't_ like to see others suffering like this, even Slytherins. She knew at least that whatever it was, he obviously regretted it and wanted to make things right. And between friends, that should be enough.

Instead, she opted to take things a slightly different direction, hopefully one Snape would find a bit more amenable. "I think actually… if you don't mind… I'll talk to Slughorn about this for you. Let him know it was just a misunderstanding, and that we talked it over, and I don't have any quarrel with you any longer, and that I don't think it's quite fair for you to have to serve detention when the two of us already made up over this. Surely he'd listen well enough to his 'best two students', wouldn't he?" She added a bit of a smile at the end, trying a bit to mock Slughorn's tone, bring some slight degree of levity to the otherwise morbid atmosphere. "That way, we're free to meet tomorrow I think. Would that be alright?"

"Yeah, umm, that'd… be nice…" Severus nodded slowly, still trying to process the fact that a Gryffindor – other than Lily – was going out of her way to try to get him _out_ of a detention. "Do you think you could meet me at Slughorn's after dinner? That's … when it's set for at least."

Hermione nodded. "Of course. I'll be there. I think actually…" she paused for a moment. "That's about it for now. We should probably get going for now. Homework and all, and I'm already behind on my discretionary reading." Hermione gave a sort of sheepish grin.

Severus just nodded, still trying to process all that had just happened. Was this really the same girl he'd sworn just hours before was out to destroy him? And now was not only going out of her way to get him out of a detention he'd gotten for trying to curse _her_ and working to try to get Lily back for him – they even seemed to have the same sentiments towards schoolwork and reading? Of course he wasn't absolutely stupid; there were still parts of him suspecting it all to be a ruse, but, if it was all true, he'd seriously misjudged her.

Sensing that Snape was probably going over rather awkward thoughts in his head, and not wanting to intrude _too_ much further – she'd certainly gotten enough information for one day out of him; more in some ways than she had otherwise in six years, Hermione decided it was probably timeto bid a quick exist.

"You know, I think it's probably best if we leave separately." She suggested. "Probably wouldn't be good if people saw us together. So I'll leave first; Gryffindor Tower isn't too far, so it should be clear for you to head out in a minute or two after."

As she turned to leave, once more Severus just nodded silently. They say the Room of Requirement can do strange things to a person. Though the two of them had entered as close to enemies, as they left and went their separate ways, there were semblances of a new, strange camaraderie between them.

* * *

><p>They'd both hurried to complete their homework that afternoon: Hermione in her strangely empty dormitory, Severus in the Library, not having even the slightest desire to return to the Slytherin dormitories before it was absolutely necessary with all that had transpired in the past twenty-four hours. Dinner too had gone by strangely quietly. Avery, Mulciber and the others were nowhere to be seen.<p>

The Marauders were present, but looking strangely out of characteristically glum – from what Hermione would tell Snape in passing later, McGonagall had found an unburned bit of the letter, bearing Gyllenkrok's signature in _Peter Pettigrew's_ handwriting. Sirius evidently hadn't been thorough enough in burning it the other night. And, rather like the coward he always seemed to be, Pettigrew cracked easily under the slightest of interrogation, and sold out the other three.

Gryffindor too lost fifty points that day – twenty for Pettigrew's impersonation of a professor, ten to all the others for their complicency in the matter. And worst of all for the Marauders, McGonnagal was adamant that all of them spend the next three weekends in detention, not giving the slightest ground to Potter's protestations surrounding Quidditch practice. That, perhaps for them, was the hardest blow of all.

After enjoying the relative calm and eating their respective fills, Hermione and Severus met up outside the Great Hall, making their way down to Slughorn's office together once again. Standing more or less side by side with Snape, Hermione knocked on the door.

"Yes?" Slughorn called from within, "Mr. Snape? I've… been expecting you.

"Yes, Professor…" Snape nodded with a bit of sigh, opening the door and starting to make his way in.

"Miss Granger?" Slughorn exclaimed at the sight of the other, obviously rather surprised. "What are you doing here? You certainly don't have detention to serve tonight."

"I know that, sir…" Hermione started, biting her lip for a second. "It's just… Well, Snape and I talked about what happened yesterday, and… Well, actually, I should say, he came up to me and apologized for it without me even thinking to bring it up. And… strange as it sounds, it all really is just a misunderstanding. See…" she frowned, "I really am new here, I'm afraid, and unfortunately, I managed to say something to him last night that he took great offense at without me realizing all the connotations of. And, well, he thought better of it now, and sought me out to apologize. We had a bit of a conversation from there, and I think we've made up our differences, sir. So, I'm just asking… if you didn't mind sir…" she looked away for a second before deliberately meeting Slughorn in the eye. "I don't think the detentions are necessary. He didn't really harm me in any serious way, and it was just a misunderstanding that the two of us have dealt with on our own. He assured me that it won't happen again, and I apologized for my own part in provoking it, so I think things are settled between the two of us."

Slughorn actually smiled at the end of it all. "How very mature of you. My two most brilliant potioneers working out their differences professionally. Well, who am I to argue with that? The fifty points taken still stand, but… well, if the two of you are getting along again now, I don't much see the point in holding against him that which you yourself don't. Very well, Severus, seems you've made a good friend. No need for detention I think."

"Thank you." Severus said, in technically not much more than a stoic tone. But, for him, that was one of the closer things to gratitude. He wasn't even sure which of the two he was directing the sentiment more towards.

* * *

><p>Only one final loose end remained for the day. Really the one he'd been dreading the most. But, it had to be taken care of, and relatively quickly; before matters had a chance to possibly spiral even more out of control. Severus inhaled sharply as he found himself at the door to the Slytherin Common Room – after a surprisingly civil farewell to Hermione outside of Slughorn's office following her telling of the Marauders' involvement in their earlier detention and what had happened to them today; something she felt was probably in their mutual interests – it had to be done.<p>

The door creaked open. There were half a dozen or so students seated around, most of them younger. A bit surprisingly, though certainly to his relief, there didn't seem to be any 'pranks' set up for him. At least none triggered by him entering the room. His entrance was sharply met by all others averting his eye, but beyond that, not a word was said. Avery and the others, however, were not in the Common Room. As it was, for the moment, imperative that he speak with them, that made him slightly anxious. He hoped he wouldn't have to go seriously searching for them now. He'd far more than enough to deal with today thanks to their idiocy.

Though… in a certain sense, if… Hermione was telling the truth; maybe in the end, strangely, it would all work out for the best. For now though, he just needed to deal with them. Keep them from going off and doing something even more outlandishly stupid and causing an even _larger_ mess for him to have to deal with. Well, there was one other logical place they might be…

Making his way up the stairs towards the sixth year boys' dormitory, he pushed his way inside. Almost the second he had a foot in the door, he was confronted by the four of them, in his face, practically with their wands out.

"We're writing a letter to Malfoy." Mulciber threatened, a rather hostile tone of voice. "We've had enough of taking this from you. Ever since this year started you've been nothing but trouble for us, and we're sick of it."

"Really?" Snape asked in an incredibly dry and indifferent tone, taking a seat, practically as if the other four didn't exist. "What odd timing. Because I was about to write to Lucius myself. Tell him what a brilliant job you and Avery played in helping our plans along. Without even being specifically instructed. I think he'd be rather pleased to hear of such. But, if you insist on writing to him as well, I'm sure he and the Dark Lord will certainly shed many tears on your behalf for the oh-so-terrible-tragedy of 'fifty points from Slytherin'. I'm certain you'll win their deepest sympathies, and be sure to get to the height of heights within the order with such. Your choice really which letter gets sent out."

"What… are you talking about?" Avery butted in, suddenly sounding more confused than angry.

"Oh, you mean you _don't_ understand?" Severus added a mock thoughtful frown. "Really? And I thought you'd all acted so brilliantly, understanding the plan I had undertaken and improvising like that on the spot with such perfect execution. Fine, fine, I'll humor you. It's really quite simple. So much so I'm surprised I even have to explain this to you…"

"You see…" he started, a bit of a grin, the sort of look Snape normally got when some plan of his or other finally started to come together. "Well, it's obvious that Hermione's a spy for Dumbledore. We all know that much. And, well, I've already talked to Lucius about the matter. He wants me to observe her, find evidence of hers and Dumbledore's dealings and expose it. From there, it should be a relatively simple matter to get that old fool sacked, possibly off to Azkaban where he belongs. And, with Lucius Malfoy himself now on the school's Board of Governors – well, the next Headmaster selected might just be … an interesting choice." Severus let out a bit of a smirk.

" The problem was…" he paused a bit, almost as if for dramatic effect. "Until very recently, I wasn't able to get much information off of her. There's only so much even _I_ can divine from her on a surface level alone. As a spy, naturally she has her guard up, keeps her secrets hidden pretty well."

"Lucius recommended, accordingly, that I do whatever it takes to get some critical bit of information from her. Even the slightest slipup on her part used properly could set our plan in motion. So, under such motivations, when I saw the two of you attacking her earlier, I saw it as the perfect opportunity, an excellent ruse for winning her trust. I defended her, certainly, but only to get her to trust me, make her think I'm not really her enemy; that, I'm not really like the other Slytherins. That I don't necessarily like the Dark Lord, might be open to conversion if she talks to me enough about it. Whatever rubbish justification she has in her silly little Gryffindor head. I don't really care." He shook his head a bit derisively.

"What matters though, she's starting to trust me. Which means our plan is well underway. Accelerated really by your quick thinking. And, as I said, I'll certainly mention your … assistance in all of this to Lucius when I write him." Severus added here a rather genuine smile. From the rhythmic nods the other four seemed to be giving him, it seemed his ruse was working well enough on them.

"Now that that's all done though – like I said, maintaining her trust is critical for this all to work. The more she trusts me, the more likely she is to reveal certain details to me, the more likely all of what we're striving for here wins. In some ways, a good part of the war itself rides on this. Get rid of Dumbledore and the Death Eaters will in all but name rule Hogwarts. That alone could turn the tide for war. I don't think I need to tell you how well we could all be rewarded for our parts in this…" He smiled a bit again, greedily, but matched by them.

"So, now that you've all played your role, and brilliantly at that, I'll say once more; I need you to leave Hermione Granger to me. I told her, among other things, in attempts to win her trust, that I'd ensure that none of you harass her any further. You all had your good fun with her to be sure, and helped accelerate Malfoy's plan, but any further harassment of her, I'm afraid, would be quite detrimental to our goals. There's plenty of other Gryffindors out there you can do what you want with, but I want her left alone. Am I understood?" He ended with a rather stern, yet not particularly angry tone.

Once more the four nodded. "Good. Then I'll write my letter to Malfoy tonight. And I take it you won't bother him with sob stories over House points or a cut on the cheek when all this is at stake."

Well, he had to admit, that had gone about as ideally as possible. Not that it was the most difficult taks in the world to outwit the lot of _them_, but still, they could be quite unpredictable at times; he wasn't fully certain how they'd react after he'd lost so many points and attacked two of them within twenty-four hours. It seemed though that, despite their failing him in his dealings with Hermione, his faculties of deception had returned at full strength. So much so he'd nearly convinced himself by the end that he wasn't lying.

To be entirely honest, he still didn't know what to think of her. Most of the evidence still pointed to her truly being a spy for Dumbledore. And in that case, to the extent that was true, maybe he wasn't even lying to the other Slytherins. But… to the extent she truly was trying to help him get Lily back he felt it was the absolute least he could do for someone doing so much for him, to do what he could to keep her protected. Only time alone could tell which was truly the case; but until then, this seemed the only rational decision to make.


	14. Requirement Revisited

**Author's Note: Sorry for being so relatively slow in updating this. Though, I can't honestly see it getting much faster in the near future (it might I suppose, but won't make any promises down that way right now…) I think maybe like once a week might be more realistic for what's left of this semester. We'll see though.**

**Thanks once more to my loyal readers, and I hope I'm still doing a decent job of writing this in your eyes.**

** Rawenclaw – Thanks for the review. Canonically the Shrieking Shack incident happened some time before the end of Fifth Year, so yeah, it's happened.**

** AnimeGirl – Don't want to say too much, as I'd rather not put out spoilers on my own fic; but suffice to say, yes, the last two or three chapters will occur chronologically after Hermione goes back, dealing with the effects the changes she had had upon the timeline.**

**Finally, I think I mentioned it before, but, on the side, I'm also writing another fic – kind of an unusual premise to that; one with Eileen Prince as a protagonist, trying to reconstruct her narrative from what little canon there is. I mentioned it before, but the first real chapter is up now; so if anyone's interested in that perchance, it's linked to in my profile obviously. In any case, thank you all for your interest in this fic so far. ^_^**

_September 6__th__, 1976_

It seemed like hours that he'd been waiting there, alone in the Room of Requirement. It was like a library, and Severus had his homework with him, but … he couldn't concentrate on it. Even Potions and DADA that normally provided a sort of sanctuary from the world's troubles seemed distant and disengaging.

Classes, meals in the Great Hall, it had all been simply habit, a routine, almost unconscious repetition that had gotten him through them earlier in the day. Lily… Lily was all he could think about. The worst mistake of his life he'd ever made, and the slim hope that had appeared the night before that he might have a second chance.

He'd seen Hermione in the halls that morning before breakfast. With what he'd told the other Slytherins, it was 'safe' now in a certain sense to talk to her publicly, but it still wasn't the best for their view of him – which in the last few days certainly had fallen – to associate too much with her; any more than was absolutely necessary for 'extracting information'.

Well, it was information he was after. Just, not the sort they thought. Sure a part of him still very much would like to see Dumbledore sent off to Azkaban where he belonged, in chains; but that was all secondary to something much strong. Lily… Hermione had promised him she was going to talk to Lily, try to see if she could possibly make them friends again.

She'd given him a bit of a sad smile, that she hadn't had a chance the night before, as Lily was already asleep when she returned, and Hermione thought it would be best not to wake her; to have such a conversation when Lily was in the very best of states. But, she promised she'd talk to her that evening, after dinner; that Severus should go to the Room of Requirement and wait for her to come there; that she'd let him know how it went.

He'd accepted that of course; he had to. It didn't make him any easier; he still couldn't fully tell if she was lying to him or not about ever intending to talk to Lily. But once more, if there was even the slightest chance she would, he wasn't going to do anything to upset that. And when Severus overheard Hermione talking to Lily – seeming to simultaneously go out of her way to ignore Remus – and saying she had 'something important' to go over with her in private; well, that was a source of some slight relief at least.

It'd be a lie to say he'd eaten too well at dinner. His eyes and thoughts had kept wandering over to the Gryffindor table. Hermione and Lily were sitting relatively close together; well, all the girls of the year were; he doubted they were discussing it then and there. But still, he could hardly tear his gaze away, hoping for some tiny semblance of a sign or clue on how Lily might be reacting. He'd gotten nothing.

He'd left before even they had. Food didn't have much value when he didn't feel like eating, and he wanted to be sure he'd be there when Hermione arrived. It'd… be best, he reasoned, if no one saw him entering the Room, so it'd probably be wise to leave the Great Hall before most of the others did.

Wilkes and Avery, who'd suddenly decided that Severus was their best friend in the world now that he was supposedly writing to Malfoy on their behalf and were rather transparently trying to curry his favor exclaimed in a bit of dismay as he got up to leave, but he just waved them off, citing homework or something. Really, right then and there, he couldn't care less what _they_ thought…

The silence, the waiting, it was driving him crazy. Surely by now, Hermione at least started talking to Lily. What was going on? What was she saying? What was Lily thinking? The helplessness of it all, the lack of answers was nearly him up the wall.

He'd probably half wore out the soles of his shoes by pacing back and forth so much; but now he was so restless, so nervous, he couldn't do even that. He'd returned to the chair, but he couldn't his mind still; it was still racing, horribly disturbed with the thought that this probably was his one final chance, and it all rested in the hands of a Gryffindor girl he barely even knew – who might well be complicit otherwise in a plot to destroy him. Put that way, it really wasn't the strongest of hope.

What… what was taking them so long? Surely it wouldn't take so horribly long for Lily to consider it, see how much he regretted what he did to seek out another person from a House he hated just for another chance to say he was sorry. Surely by now it should be done. Maybe even it'd be Lily at the door, she'd come running in and hug him, and nothing would ever be wrong with the world again.

Then suddenly he realized, horribly, the way he'd set the room up, only he and Hermione could enter. Even… even if Lily had forgiven him, Hermione would have to show up first alone to tell him. But, that was fine. If… if he could just be her friend again, he wouldn't have cared if it was Potter or blood-traitor Black themselves coming to bear the news.

He noticed then he'd been drumming his fingers fairly hard against the table. Still quite anxious. Where the hell was she? Had she forgotten him entirely; was this all some large elaborate prank on her part to just mess with his head? Pretend she actually wanted to help him get Lily back and then leave him here, waiting. The thought was starting to cross his mind.

When, finally, the door opened…

He'd been sitting in the chair facing it, of course, not wanting to miss even for a second Hermione's arrival. She walked in alone; the outer hall was lighter than the somewhat dimly lit Room, so all he got at first was a silhouette, but it was just one person, alone. And not Lily's, he knew hers far too well.

But, of course it was Hermione. It'd have to be. That was how the Room was set up. So, in itself… not necessarily a bad sign. He paused for a second, almost unsure how to speak, then finally he squeezed the words out of his throat. "D-id you talk… to her?"

It might even have passed for a hopeful tone if he didn't feel so … dead inside.

"Yeah…" Hermione started off, a bit of a huff. "I did." Suddenly she put her hands on her hips rather crossly. "I can't believe what an idiot you just made me look like! To think for a second that I actually trusted you when you said that you still wanted to be her friend after all this…! To send me in there, trying to defend you after what you…!"

Whatever frail sense of hope had lingered in Snape's eyes instantly shattered at Hermione's accusations. "I…" Snape started.

Hermione didn't give him a chance to continue. She was nearly fuming. "So you want to be a Death Eater? And you really wonder why a _mudblood_ has trouble forgiving you?"

Severus could only look down at the table for a moment. It … wasn't as if a good part of him hadn't expected this. Any chance of Lily forgiving him, even by a supposedly sympathetic proxy, seemed impossible. Lily… must have told her. Told her everything. And Hermione's accusations weren't really anywhere near as bad as the terrible diatribes he'd been screaming at himself inside his own head ever since he'd ever called her that name. But just hearing that _word_ again…

"It's… it's not like that… I didn't mean it…"

"Didn't mean it, really?" Hermione groaned in indignation. "Which is right why you want to run off to serve the Dark Lord the first chance you get. Who knows, might even get the chance to kill some of us mudbloods while you're at it, work your way up. She told me you wouldn't even deny it… Honestly, if it wasn't for a sense of honor a lot stronger than you seem to have, I'd probably just have left you in here all night once I heard that."

Very few times in her life had Hermione been so absolutely furious. She couldn't believe how much Snape had played her for a fool, such a stupid act, setting her up there like that. She'd trusted him, thought he really cared about Lily. Was willing to go out of her own way to intervene and give him a second chance that he obviously didn't deserve. All the while knowing all that he'd done to her, sending Hermione there to earn Lily's scorn too. Just because for a moment in her life she'd decided to give a single Slytherin the benefit of her doubt, certainly against her better judgment. Alright, that was never going to happen again.

But the most infuriating bit was what he'd done to her. Lily… really was hurt by this. Severus _used_ to be her friend. And he'd completely betrayed her, calling her to her face what amounted in Hermione's mind to what was possibly the most horrible word in the English language when Lily had tried to help him. And was working on getting involved – if he wasn't already – in an organization whose sole mission was to destroy those like Lily and herself. She knew he was a Death Eater certainly, but would have assumed that to be later on, after Lily had already left. She thought even he would have enough honor not to join forces with an organization that wanted to harm his supposed 'best friend'.

"You don't understand _anything_!" Severus suddenly shouted, slamming his fist on the table. "None of you do!"

"What's there to understand? You've made it pretty clear where you stand I think."

"It's… it's not what it looks like…" Severus looked down, frustration, anguish swirling around inside him. Why didn't anyone _understand_…? Lily especially.

He'd been stupid, really stupid to trust Hermione – a Gryffindor – this. To think for a second he'd been stupid enough to think she actually cared about him and Lily. Well, her conversation, its goals were pretty transparent now. She was trying to get him into admitting his association with the Death Eaters, just using his obvious weakness of his need of Lily against him. She really was just as terrible as he'd first assumed. That, or just… absolutely stupid to not understand what to him was so transparent, so straightforward.

"I'm trying to protect her!" he shouted again. Mainly just trying to get it out, it had to get out. He didn't expect she'd believe him. Typical Gryffindor thinking herself so much better, so superior to him. None of their lot could possibly understand why he had to do what he had to do. But that didn't change the fact that it was still absolutely true, that doing this was the only possible path he could conceivably take, no matter how painful it might seem.

"_Protect _her?" Hermione asked incredulously. "By joining _them_…?"

"Yes, protect her…" Severus sighed heavily, deliberately ignoring her second, obviously leading question. "Look, I know what you are. I'm not stupid enough to incriminate myself…" he scowled a bit, "Especially with all this on the line. But if you really want to know why I might want to do certain things, make certain … alliances. Well…"

He shook his head letting out another sharp breath. "Honestly, tell this to Dumbledore, I don't even care anymore. There's not a damned thing anyone could do to change this, not even him. But…" he looked down again. "As you've probably surmised… I'm a Slytherin; more intelligent certainly than most of the others. And a favorite of Malfoy's – and anyone with a pulse at least knows what the rumors are about him. So fine, of course I've heard things. I have … access to more information than most, I'll say that much…"

"So…" he paused another moment or so, trying to think how best to phrase the next bit. "There's some things I know… The Dark Lord, he's… he's not just a powerful wizard. He's done something – I don't fully know what, and certainly wouldn't tell you if I did – but, he's … made himself immortal. Even if someone overpowered him, destroyed his body; it wouldn't matter. He'll just rise back up again and again. Nothing, no one can stop him. Not you, not the Order, not Dumbledore himself. To even think of opposing him is just to invite death needlessly upon one's self."

"No matter what happens, in the end, it's inevitable, he's going to win. So, knowing this, I… the only reasonable, rational thing to do I mean… I'm not unintelligent. I know how he feels, in general, about muggleborns. As it might stand presently, if I do nothing, there's a good chance, when he inevitably wins, Lily would be in great danger. That… can't happen. So… the only, only rational decision would be to join the winning side. Make myself powerful, indispensible to the Dark Lord. And then when this, the war is all over. I… I'll actually be in a position to keep her safe… That's… all I really want… I just wish she could just understand…!" He slammed his fist down again. He was close to tears again. Just the agony, the absolute frustration of it all. Why couldn't Lily just understand what was so transparently simple; the one, the only way that she'd be safe; the only thing in the world that actually mattered.

Hermione hadn't even noticed that her jaw had fallen open by the end. So _that_ was why. That was why he first joined… them… But still, it didn't make the fullest of sense to her. The Death Eaters… he'd be falling in with an extremely dangerous crowd. If "his own" didn't turn on him, he could very well end up dead or in Azkaban from the Ministry. And… while she knew that wouldn't be the case, he wouldn't. Sure it was misguided, quite misguided. About as far off the proper course as one could get. But, he was willing to literally put his life at risk to try and keep Lily safe. That, at least, made him, technically speaking, at least a bit morally superior to most of the other Death Eaters. If… if he was actually telling the truth, and protecting Lily really was his driving motivation.

But… that didn't make sense. Lily… hated him. Or so he said, and Lily herself seemed to indicate. Even if they used to be friends, after she turned on him, why would he still…? Then, in an instant, it hit her. An epiphany. He… unbelievable as the idea seemed from everything she'd seen of the older man… Snape _loved_ Lily. So much so that he was willing to do what he thought would protect her, even if it would put him at such great personal risk; even if it meant he would have to do things that made her turn against him.

Hermione realized suddenly she was still staring, her jaw ajar… "I…" she began in a rather more soft tone now, trying to think of some words to say, her mind still a bit blank on what to possibly articulate, instead running a million miles in all directions.

Suddenly it all made sense, as if everything she'd seen of the older man drew back to this one point. So this was why he _truly_ hated James so much… because James was taking Lily away from him. And now that Lily had left him, would go on to marry his worst enemy. It had to be devastating… Hermione could almost see now, almost understand why the older man hated Harry so badly, living proof that he'd lost Lily to his worst enemy.

But the worst part for him; the truly worst part of it all: in his misguided quest to protect her, Snape would serve as the catalyst for Lily's death. She'd heard his earlier words; sure, from what she'd seen, the younger Snape seemed quite power hungry, and had something of a morbid fascination with the Dark Arts, but… he'd said his deepest reason motivating him to join the Dark Lord was … he thought he could protect her that way. And really, after seeing all that, it was kind of hard not to believe him. There was just too much pain in his eyes for it to be a lie.

She could only imagine how much more devastated he'd be when he-who-must-not-be-named murdered her. Hermione felt absolutely terrible, ashamed of her earlier words, ashamed of not trusting Dumbledore when he'd told them to trust Snape. He… after Lily's death. He'd have to have been devastated, utterly devastated. He truly… truly had defected. Just like Dumbledore had said. And was only trying to protect Harry and destroy the Dark Lord, all for Lily's sake…

"I'm… so sorry…" Hermione finally spoke, looking down a bit, not actually daring to look him in the eyes right then and there when she thought about how much she'd misjudged at least his character, if not his actions; especially those he'd yet to take.

She wanted, somehow to tell him, to warn him. It was just too painful what he was going through, would have to go in the future. Maybe… maybe it wasn't too late. If she could just let him know now what Voldemort would do to Lily… If she could just… But no, she couldn't. It was doubtful she'd have any means of proving any of it to him, and… as terrible as it all was. Well, without events unfolding as they would have to leading to Lily's sacrifice, there would be no Harry, no hope of defeating the Dark Lord. It… didn't make it any less painful to think about but… it was necessary.

Terrible, tragic as it sounded, he had to become a Death Eater, go down this path, for now, for hope to remain alive. Dumbledore… really had been right in warning her about things. She never imagined just quite how painful protecting the proper timeline might be…

Still though, Hermione now saw Snape in an entirely new light. He was quite possibly one of the most loyal, brave individuals she'd ever met. And she couldn't believe how _wrong_ she'd been about him for so many long years. All those years, he'd been there behind the scenes, at great risk, protecting her, Harry, and Ron… and, they'd all nearly constantly hated and scorned him for it. Just because she couldn't understand. Just like Lily…

Hermione resolved then and there. She'd do whatever it took, in whatever time she had here, to stand by him, try to give him what comfort she could, at least make his life some tiny bit better. It was … the very least she owed him, after all he'd done for her… or would do… especially if she couldn't even tell him…

Without even really thinking about it, Hermione wrapped a single arm around Snape's back, her cheek meeting his. "You're the best friend Lily could have ever hoped for… And I'm sorry that she can't see it…"


	15. The Two Letters

**Author's Note: Alright, again, because this chapter was a bit on the longer side, I'm going to keep the AN relatively short. **

**Thanks again to all my readers. I THINK I might be able to post another chapter this weekend, but I can't promise. If not, it'll be sometime next week.**

**Thank you very much for the reviews; though, I won't directly comment on what happens between Hermione/Severus/Lily, as that'd rather be spoiling the ending I think. xD**

_September 6th, 1976_

Snape didn't understand at all. A minute ago, Hermione had been screaming accusations in his face; the same he'd heard directly, or mostly now indirectly from Lily so many times. The same ones he'd exclaimed against himself silently so many times every day.

She, an initially outside party now knew the truth. And, predictably enough, she hated him for it. Well, she was a muggleborn Gryffindor almost certainly working directly against the interests of the Death Eaters. It wasn't that surprising of a stance.

But then, when he'd all but literally confirmed her accusations, couldn't deny the horrible word he'd used against his one real friend, almost directly admitted to working for the Death Eaters. When he'd went on to admit that he really didn't care one way or the other who lived or died in the war just so long as Lily was safe; that he was more than happy to work with an organization opposed to muggleborns otherwise as long as he could keep Lily herself safe. After all that, she seemed to… actually feel sorry for him, almost take his side of things.

It didn't make sense. She was a muggleborn; probably one of those in the greatest danger indirectly from what he was doing. Sure it was all to protect Lily rather than any real malice towards Hermione – the events of the past week or so, which now seemed quite insignificant in comparison excluded – that certainly wasn't a lie; but so long as it seemed the best means of protecting Lily, he'd do anything, absolutely _anything_ to achieve such ends. Including ends that certainly weren't aligned with Hermione's own interests.

So why was she, after what he'd just admitted, actually showing him kindness. He was confused, definitely confused. But so drained, and with the shock of it all, he didn't resist. For a few seconds he just remained looking forward, his expression unreadable.

This had been far, far more emotion than Severus ever felt comfortable displaying. Certainly around a relative stranger; certainly around Gryffindors other than Lily. Maybe it was just the way the human brain was hard-wired though, despite all his conscious thoughts on the matter, but he actually felt… slightly better, stronger at Hermione's embrace. The pain and frustration was still there equally strong, but there was a strange bit of comfort too, something he couldn't quite understand.

He remembered, in the past, when things went wrong, Lily had always been there for him. When his mother died the year before, for several days he thought he might have gone literally insane if she hadn't been there for him. With Lily, the simplest kind look, touch was usually enough – no matter how terrible the world was otherwise – to bring him a sense of peace.

Hermione wasn't Lily though. Obviously. He tried for a second even closing his eyes and imagining that it was his former friend holding him like she had so many times before. But he couldn't, it didn't work. Still, in a odd way, it actually made him feel slightly better. Someone actually still cared about him, at least on some level – assuming it was genuine. And that was … slightly better than what the status quo had been so far.

It was too… confusing though. He didn't like some of the implications of such thoughts. Sure when he had Lily, she wouldn't have minded him having other friends, probably but… he didn't like the idea on any level of 'replacing' her. His top priority now and always would be winning back _her_ friendship. Anyone else, even an ally on that quest, would have to come second. So, he felt almost guilty for any comfort, however fleeting he received from Hermione. Even if she meant well, even if she truly just felt sympathy for him. Well, it almost felt like an affront to Lily.

Or maybe not. Severus really didn't know what to think. Nothing about any of this made any sense at all. Everything in the world seemed confusing now. Friends, enemies, allies, rivals; they all seemed mixed up, conflated. He barely knew who he was anymore, what 'side' he was really on, who to stand with. Well, Lily above all else. He knew that much, didn't he?

So, slowly he pulled away, without any hint of anger – it wasn't that; in a way, Hermione had actually helped him feel slightly better about himself. He just… didn't know what to do anymore, and the conflict in his mind was becoming too strong.

There was something though he had to know, objectively. Terrible as the knowledge might be. And, as it stood, Hermione was the only one who could possibly answer him. "Is… is it really that terrible? The word I mean…?"

"Well," Hermione frowned slightly, recalling some instances of hearing the word herself in the past, none of them pleasant, "If you want an honest answer, it's certainly not a very nice word. Umm… I mean, normally when I'd been called it before in the past, it was by, well, someone kind of like who called me it the other day. Who obviously already hated me to begin with. So… in that case. I mean, it's still highly offensive, a really nasty word. And anyone who uses it prejudicially like that, I certainly would lose any respect for. But, coming from an enemy… It'd certainly anger me a bit; it's degrading, cruel. But, considering the source, it wouldn't affect me in the long term."

"If a close friend of mine had called me that though." Hermione shook her head, unable to even imagine the thought of Harry or Ron ever calling her that. "It'd really, really hurt. I'd feel insulted of course, and all the more deeply so if I considered them my friend. And beyond that, betrayed that they could even think about me in such terms. It really is about the most awful things you could say to someone muggleborn, especially with all that's going on right now."

By the end, Snape was hanging his head, too ashamed to even meet Hermione's eye. She was right of course. It'd been more than just a word; on a very real level, he'd betrayed his beloved Lily, said one of the most horrible things imaginable to her, after she'd done so much for him for so long. The one person in his life who for so long had actually shown him kindness, and in one terrible unthinking moment, he'd treated her like dirt.

"Why did you call her that, anyway?" Hermione had questioned; strangely to Severus, not in all that accusing a tone.

"I…" he could barely speak. "I didn't mean to. I didn't even realize I had until it was already out… I… The other Slytherins, they used that term a lot. So, I did too around them – but only in referring to others, and just to be accepted. I never, ever thought of her like that. I was just … so angry, so frustrated. I wasn't thinking, at all…"

Severus would have figured Hermione would probably have stormed off again, knowing all that she did, but instead, rather softly, she put a hand on his shoulder. "Well, at least you're not proud of it, like most others who use it would be."

Proud? How could he possibly be 'proud' of insulting to her face the love of his life in about the most degrading way possible after she'd tried to save him? Of course he felt ashamed, regret, self-loathing. Anything but pride. But, she was right. The other Slytherins – well, the four he interacted with most at least – threw that word around left and right, acting like they were somehow superior for using it. And him, as long as he lived, he just wanted to never have to hear that terrible word uttered again.

He nodded very slightly, still looking down. It was really obvious that he had nothing but regret for what he'd done to her. "Do you think…" Severus paused. "If… if a friend of yours called you that, but they were really sorry about it… Could you forgive them…?"

"Well…" Hermione started, "If they really were sincere about apologizing, and honestly felt bad about it. I think… in time, I could, yes. But, it would take time. And it'd be a long while before things ever felt normal again."

"But you'd forgive them?" Severus looked up slightly, actually meeting Hermione's eyes for a fleeting second.

"If they really were sorry, yes. Honestly, I think… from what I've seen, Lily just needs a bit of time."

Time? It'd been more than three months now; three months that he'd done practically nothing short of constantly regretting it, apologizing for it.

Hermione frowned. How to say this next part. Well, she knew at least in the "proper" timeline that Severus and Lily never made up. Or, maybe in some far stretch of the imagination he and Lily regained a civil friendship, but she still ended up with James in the end. And somehow she thought that wouldn't be enough for Severus either. But, according to everything she'd told everyone – Dumbledore aside – since she'd arrived here, she wasn't supposed to "know" anything of the sort. And honestly it was just too awful for her to want to tell him.

Could the "future" be changed? Maybe, she didn't know. She'd read a number of mutually exclusive theories on the matter, regarding the permanence or lack thereof of the timeline; but they were just that, theories. As far as anyone knew, there'd yet to be any real practical experimentation on time. Probably for the best.

It was really, really tempting on one level to intervene here. That was, if it were just a matter of helping Lily choose between Severus and James with no external consequences to the decision besides who she ended up with. Well, Severus was the better choice by far. At least from everything she'd ever seen.

He obviously cared very deeply about her; he certainly wouldn't have defended another member of a House he otherwise hated over a single word, the memory of a single perceived offense otherwise. Sure he'd made a mistake, and broadly speaking, was in the process of making another larger one – though in that case, admittedly for 'noble' intentions; but he truly regretted it once he saw what it was. If anything, his fault lay in loving her a bit too deeply, too strongly, to the point where it made him do things that he'd probably otherwise consider irrational. But that too would redeem him in the end. And, at least from their earlier conversation, he'd made it clear that he was willing to do absolutely _anything_ that he thought would keep her safe.

James on the other hand seemed by comparison like an almost sadistic brigand. Making "mistakes" all the time, and having absolutely no remorse for them – taking pride if anything in how he hurt others. And at least all that she'd seen so far of his supposed affection for Lily. Well, it seemed a very surface level thing, he thought she was 'pretty' or something; he'd go out of his way to annoy her, harass her. From what was happening at present, if she didn't know any better, she might even be led to believe that James didn't care about Lily at all and was only pursuing her as some sort of bid to take her away from Severus, hurt him more. And fine, maybe in time he would change; hopefully he would. She loathed the thought of Lily with someone like that indefinitely.

But, really, if the question had been posed in her own times, a female friend of hers in much the same situation as Lily; Severus would be the obvious choice. Not the slightest thought of contest.

The problem here was, of course, in the proper timeline, Lily chose James. And then went on to have Harry who survived the Dark Lord's attack. Possibly the only hope anyone had of defeating him. So – assuming it was even possible for her to do so – if she did what seemed at present to be the clearly 'right' thing, if she intervened on Severus's behalf, restored him in Lily's eyes…

Well, it'd be impossible to know what would happen. Harry almost certainly wouldn't exist. Severus himself would at least publicly have to remain a Death Eater – maybe Lily could convince him to secretly collaborate against them; if anyone could, it'd be her. Without Harry, obviously there'd have been no Prophecy – or maybe it'd have meant Neville instead. So either, in theory, anyone could kill the Dark Lord, or Neville could. There'd still be terrible dangers of course, but the timeline would find a way of correcting itself. Probably.

It was just… Harry though. Hermione couldn't imagine what her life would have been like without his friendship, protection, guidance. He was probably the bravest, most loyal friend she'd ever known, and… if Lily didn't choose James, he'd never exist. Either choice, when put that way seemed absolutely horrific.

She'd really have to think this one through carefully. Ideally, she'd want Harry to have been born, but Severus still with the girl he loved in the end. Which currently seemed directly at odds with one another. Maybe there was some way of doing that; there were supposed to be an infinite number of potential timelines after all, some of which _would_ hold that conclusion. Just the … getting there seemed rather difficult.

Though, technically speaking she supposed, even the tiniest actions she'd performed here, all of them had pushed the timeline in slightly different directions. No matter what anyone would have wanted, they already were on a slightly different timeline from the moment she'd first appeared; so, perhaps, some of the rules were already a bit off? Maybe. But that was probably just wishful thinking.

"I meant what I said though." Hermione finally said. "About talking to Lily about this. I think, for right now, it's probably best to give her a bit of time; to think over this. And then when I think she's ready I'll talk to her again. As long as you won't give up on her, I won't either."

"Thank you." Severus nodded, his eyes glistening a bit. It really was close to the best thing anyone had ever done for him. Even after she knew essentially everything that he was doing, had done, Hermione was still willing to try to restore his and Lily's friendship, the one thing that mattered most to him. That was much, much more than he'd have expected from anyone, much less a Gryffindor. Maybe the Sorting Hat had made a mistake, _twice_…

"Actually," Severus let out a pronounced exhale, reaching down for his book of potions, flipping through it, and pulling out a folded letter. "If you could please just make sure she sees this, when you think the time was right. Don't give it directly to her; she won't take it, I know. Put it in her books or something where she'd happen across it. Just please, if you could do that…"

The letter he'd written over summer break, in the midst of a terrible despair. It'd been mostly cathartic, a not fully successful attempt at releasing his all too present misery. It'd been formulated as a letter to Lily, but he'd never imagined that he'd been able to give it to her – well, maybe if they'd actually sat together on the train it could have worked. But now that that too had fallen through, he thought he'd never have a chance. To give it to her in such a way that she wouldn't know it was from him until she at least started reading it… well, only a Gryffindor would be able to do that practically speaking; and at the time of writing he'd been absolutely sure that they all universally hated him.

Hermione though… he still wasn't fully sure what he thought of her overall. He was still in some ways a bit wary of her, her loyalties and affiliations. But she'd promised to help him here. And for Lily's sake, that was enough for him to trust her.

"I'll do it." Hermione nodded, taking the letter from his hand. "When I think the moment is right, I will."

* * *

><p><em>Lily.<em>

_These past few weeks I haven't been able to concentrate on anything. I never imagined just how horrible being stuck here, alone would be. I'm nigh about to go insane, just sitting here, so I'm writing you this letter. One I'll probably never be able to give you in person._

_I know you hate me. I know you'll never forgive me. I know all that. I deserve as much. It was a terrible thing I did, truly the worst mistake of my life. And I know you'd probably hate me more if I told you this again, but I really am sorry. I never, ever meant to hurt you, but, I know I did. For that, I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive myself either._

_If I could just go back and change it, I would; believe me I would. There's not a single moment in my life that I regret more. I just, want to tell you that I'm sorry; that it's something I'll probably never be able to forgive myself for until the day I die._

_Because, even if you hate me now, for what I did, I still could never hate you. I know I have a terrible way of showing it, and I know you won't listen, but I still really do care about you. And if there's anything I can do at all – anything – to convince you that I still do, I'll do it. _

_Whatever happens, whatever it looks like, you're the only friend worth anything I had. And I recognize that now more than ever. Even if you can't be my friend anymore, thank you for the years we had. And I hope one day I can be your friend again. _

_If you'd just give me one more chance, I promise I'd never let you down again; or, if not…_

_Either way, I'm going to do what it takes to keep you safe. Even if you don't understand. Just please know, no matter what else, I'll always be there for you. Even if you hate me in turn. Because your friendship is really all I ever cared about._

_If we could please just talk again, even briefly, just so I could maybe show you how sorry I am, that's all I want._

_Severus_

* * *

><p>After giving Hermione the letter, Severus had turned to leave. Unbelievably, though it was faint, there was a slight flicker of hope again. Thanks to about the last source of assistance imaginable. He didn't really know what to say to her beyond a simple thank you, but if what she was saying was actually true, that didn't go anywhere near sufficiently explaining the depth of gratitude he'd have for what she was going to do.<p>

She, perhaps perceiving his thoughts had suggested it best that they return to the dorms to finish homework for the night. No matter what else happened, they both were rather diligent students after all, so they couldn't afford to have their grades drop. It'd been enough of an excuse to allow them to each leave on more or less amicable terms.

Severus himself had barely gotten into the door to the Common Room, however, when he was almost literally rushed by his four room mates. Thankfully they looked rather more pleased than angry, but after the conversation he'd just had, it was still a bit disconcerting.

"You wrote to Lucius, right?" Avery exclaimed, rather excitedly.

"Keep your voice down, you idiot…" Severus sneered, looking around warily. In all honesty, he hadn't yet. He'd been … preoccupied, to say the least; and, he wasn't fully certain what to write. Obviously he'd need to mention Hermione somehow – it'd be far too suspicious if he didn't and Lucius heard tell of her otherwise; but he still wasn't fully sure what he thought about her, and thus how to present her in the letter. It'd have to be something carefully calculated, and he simply hadn't had time.

But, of course, it wasn't as if he could tell _them_ that. There wasn't any real explanation he could give to excuse not having sent Lucius a letter – something he really needed to do as soon as possible now that he thought of it. So instead, he'd opted to merely deflecting the question. True they were in the Slytherin Dormitory. Most everyone would be neutral to sympathetic to their goals in all this. But it still was quite … untactful to carry on like that. Unbefitting of proper Slytherin cunning.

"Well, umm, what he means is…" Mulciber continued, in a somewhat more hushed voice. "Right after you left dinner, the owls came with letters. And there was one for you, from Lucius. So we figured you'd written to him and he was writing back."

"Let me see it." Severus replied rather tersely. Even they probably weren't stupid enough to have opened it; there was a clear hierarchy to things, and making such an affront to a direct liason to the Death Eaters as to intercept his communications would _not_ be taken kindly. But, if by some chance they had – considering the fact that he _hadn't _written to Lucius yet; that could be rather disastrous.

Mulciber handed him a letter. The familiar Malfoy family seal thankfully still unbroken. Alright, so unless those boneheads were somehow capable of forging the charm responsible, it was still intact. On that end, he was safe. The real issue then would be Lucius's own thoughts. Why was he writing him? To inquire about Severus not having written yet. In hindsight that was … rather bad; potentially quite suspicious. The whole thought of Lucius writing first bode sort of ill, but he really had no one to blame but himself for not initiating things.

Trying to look as neutrally as possible, he walked over to a desk, breaking open the seal. The others, despite their overall excitement, still knew well enough that he was _not_ to be followed.

* * *

><p><em>Severus Snape,<em>

_I haven't heard from you in a short while, so I thought it best to write you myself. I hope you are well in health and otherwise. As a member of Hogwarts's Board of Governors now, naturally it falls under my duty to ensure the wellbeing of Hogwarts students, but, much beyond this, because of the connection we seem to have, I'm a bit dismayed not to have yet heard from you._

_Especially with all the strange rumors one hears. The other day, I heard from an old friend of mine that some rather odd occurrences have been happening within the school grounds. Particularly a new student that Dumbledore seems to have brought to the school, despite her age and not having attended the school before. While admission of students is of course under the purview of the Headmaster, and I'd never think of stepping beyond the bounds of my own position and challenging him unjustly, this is not a decision that I feel represents the best interests of the school._

_Both her purported actions and her appearance itself strike me as deeply suspicious. As a former fellow student, I'd always observed you to be a person of great responsibility and rationality. I ask you then, simply to observe her doings. Be my eyes and ears inside Hogwarts. Make sure all is well, and all that is against the interests of the school be exposed and brought to the light._

_Along those lines, I happen to have this coming weekend free, and am thinking of visiting Hogsmeade; I heard tell the Board of Governors approved it as a Hogsmeade trip for the students. If you would have the time, I would very much enjoy meeting up with you and another old friend of mine at the Three Broomsticks. Share a conversation and a few drinks. How does six thirty this coming Friday evening sound? Hope to see you there._

_Sincerely,_

_Lucius Malfoy – Hogwarts Board of Governors_

* * *

><p>As always, Lucius's letter had been rather adeptly written. On the surface of things, nothing in it was particularly untactful. In the case of its interception, it would merely appear to be Lucius expressing a certain justifiable level of curiosity in what was going on at the school, and his desire to catch up on things with a friend. Nothing incriminating on either of those levels. If anything, he presented himself as simply trying to honor his duty to protect the school.<p>

But on a more prudent level, it was almost a bit threatening. Subtly done, but it was there none the less. Obviously, Lucius had heard about Hermione. From "an old friend" – Severus wasn't sure who he was referring to, but he didn't like the implications of it. Surely it wasn't his four room mates; they'd _threatened_ to write Lucius, but the very fact that they did as much indicated that they hadn't sent a letter to him, and surely they wouldn't have after he explained he was going to write one of his own with a favorable sentiment to them. So who then? Who else in the school kept up correspondence with Lucius, and why…?

Well, obviously he'd soon find out. There were written pretenses of mere suggestion, but Severus knew better. He was being ordered, at least by Lucius – if not from the Dark Lord himself – to meet at the Three Broomsticks – from there on to who knows where. That could be either a rather good or rather bad sign; and from the text, there was no real way of knowing which.

It was definitely a difficult position he found himself in, but… He had to go to the meeting. It was adamant that he maintain his present standing with the Death Eaters at all foreseeable costs; and it was information he needed to know; who else was working with Lucius at Hogwarts. Four days, he supposed, and he'd know.


	16. Self Preservation

**Author's Note: Really, really, really sorry for taking so long in updating this. Life got really crazy between academic stuff (mainly logistics to double major and graduate, applying to study abroad), applying for jobs after graduation, getting ready for interviews, finals, and a bunch of other little annoying things that came up. And there were a few times where I could have written, but I was just wasn't feeling it mentally and didn't want to write substandard, because you all deserve better. I think life has kind of cleared up now for a while, so I can start updating this at least semi-regularly again.**

**MAJOR thanks to my subscribers and their loyalty. Thank you SO much for the over 100 reviews right now. 0_0 I'm quite humbled by that.**

**And finally, on a level of the story itself, this one and presumably the next one – though I haven't actually written it out yet – are going to be mainly from Severus's POV. Mainly because Hermione's starting a bit of a scheme of her own, and I don't want the details of it entirely out until she sets it into action two chapters from now. So yeah…**

**Also, if you couldn't tell, one of my majors of study intruded a _little_ bit into this chapter... But I found it actually rather fitting with the plot idea I had in mind, and Hermione's presumably rather well-read, so it could work I thought...**

_September 8__th__, 1976_

It was difficult to focus on schoolwork after all that had happened, but it had to be done. The world and its requisite logistics were not going to cease simply because their existence inconvenienced a certain Sixth-Year Slytherin. And certainly, in one way of looking at things, school didn't _really_ matter for him as Severus saw it.

He was, after all, soon to join with the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters; and it wasn't as if entry conditions were a certain number of passed NEWTs. If anything, that'd disqualify most of them, Severus couldn't help but think a bit disdainfully. If the Dark Lord won, the rest of his life would surely be one of absolute luxury and power; if, unthinkably, the Dark Lord lost, he'd end up dead or in Azkaban for life – and honestly, he wasn't sure which seemed worse. Either way, academic performance was, technically speaking irrelevant to his future.

Sure that was all objectively true. Even so, he loved learning. Well, on subjects that he actually cared about. It brought a certain peace, serenity. Knowledge was objective. There was a logic, a reason. Something was either factually correct or it wasn't. At least in knowledge there was no emotions, no notions of morality to complicate things. Paradoxical as the thought would be to most other students, academics to Severus were simple, refreshingly so compared to the ongoing chaos of the outer world.

It was only a week into things, but already homework had started piling up. Particularly in his case for having enrolled in so many different classes. In an odd way, it was almost… nice though; a forced distraction from all the chaos of the outer world.

Barring academics, Tuesday had been mainly uneventful; they'd gone over stroke orders in Ancient Runes, for what to Severus felt like it most certainly have been the thousandth time. Astronomy had them going over stars and constellations he swore he could have recounted before setting foot in the castle.

It was Wednesday when things first became interesting once more. There'd been thoughts deeply concerning him of course. The letter he'd received from Malfoy, his rather delicate position within the hierarchy of the Death Eaters. More pressingly still Lily, and whatever minute chance the other muggleborn Gryffindor might give him there, odd as the very thought still sounded.

But as always, the more mundane matters of life never seemed to slow down for his convenience. Life in all its tedium still went on. Potions class that day, normally one of his favorites, consisted of nothing more but what was supposed to be a lecture on Golpalott's Third Law – but about fifteen minutes inwards, Slughorn began on what ended up being a rather long tangent regarding a party he once attended wherein a guest – one he wouldn't name specifically, but hinted rather strongly was presently a person of some influence within the Ministry – became so inebriated that he believed himself to be dying, and the rather comical attempts resulting from trying to help the man recover and salvage what remained of his reputation that evening. The professor was still talking when class was over, and it was only at Lupin's reminder of the time that the students therein were let free. Severus had nearly fallen asleep.

DADA initially had seemed rather mundane as well – Gyllenkrok going on at length on the Imperius curse, theoretical means of resistance, and legal exemptions for it use; evidently the first in the series on the Unforgivable Curses and their effects at length. While the Imperius curse itself was, under most circumstances, illegal to perform – not that Severus cared to abide by Ministry law; but for now it was a matter of practicality – the lecture held enough theoretical parallels to his own research into Legilimency and Occlumency that it might have held his interest more deeply were it not so seemingly watered down.

From what little he could gather of the older man's presentation, the subtle things, tone of voice, aversion of gaze, Severus almost thought he could surmise that Professor Gyllenkrok wished to say more, yet felt constrained by the regulations at Hogwarts. An intriguing thought really, and a part of him leapt with exhilaration at the thought of someone else knowledgeable who shared his passion for the Dark Arts. Perhaps it was a long shot, but it was at least something. Maybe if he ever had the chance, the two of them could have a conversation together on such things. On a … purely theoretical level of course. Sure, Slughorn too was more open-minded than most Hogwarts professors, and despite being primarily a professor of Potions, he still held a fair bit more knowledge on theory regarding the Dark Arts than he might initially let on, but… if anything, Gyllenkrok seemed just slightly more promising in that regard. Granted, it was still a very initial impression, but there almost seemed to be hope in that regard.

It was only at the ending of class, however, when matters suddenly became significantly more intriguing.

"One last matter." Gyllenkrok had called to the class as they had begun to pack away their books and quills. "Dueling Club is having its first meeting this evening following dinner, in the dueling arena on the first floor. This first meeting is only for House Captains – for purposes of this class, Miss Granger and Mr. Snape – though meetings every following Wednesday will be open to interested parties. I suspect I shall see the two of you there at the proper time?" Gyllenkrok's cold grey eyes looked over the two of them knowingly.

"Yes sir…" Hermione responded a bit sheepishly, feeling simultaneously embarrassment for evidently having looked so stupid in front of a professor and barely concealed outrage at the other Gryffindors present for what they'd done to her.

Severus was about to respond in turn, rather sullen at the reminder of what trouble those imbeciles had caused for him – even if for once it seemed there'd been some small manner of justice meted out; when instead one of the said imbeciles spoke.

"Couldn't we come along also, keep an eye on 'Miss Granger'…?" Sirius inquired rather mockingly. "Make sure she knows when and where she's going, since she's clearly prone to getting lost."

Hermione couldn't help but shoot him a look of absolute loathing. Severus too, though for once, oddly, Sirius's insults weren't made towards him directly, also couldn't help glowering a bit – perhaps just at the sheer imbecilic arrogance of the Gryffindor's tone.

"Mr. Black…" Professor Gyllenkrok began, an icy chill in his tone. "You'd do well to consider yourself blessedly fortunate that you are not a student of Durmstrang. If the four of you had done anything so remotely mindlessly irreverent as attempting to impersonate a professor there, detention would be the _least_ of your worries. When Dumbledore informed me on the truth of the matter… It was his word only that prevented me from speaking to McGonagall about having the four of you _expelled_… If I hear even a rumor that the four of you persist in disturbing the only two students in this class who actually show some potential, such leniency may not be extended. Am I understood…?"

The impotent rage on the four Marauders' faces as they looked to each other, downwards, anywhere but towards the professor was, to Gyllenkrok's two "best students" absolutely priceless. This amounted to an almost all out declaration of war on the Marauders' antics – the first professor to make a serious effort along those lines. Surely the idiots would try and retaliate. There'd be pranks or worse directed at the older man; but somehow, Severus knew instinctively, that'd only make the Marauders' fate all the worse. This settled it; he was really, really beginning to like Professor Gyllenkrok.

* * *

><p>For once, in what seemed an eternity, Severus actually didn't feel miserable. Fleeting as it was, he had hope again of getting Lily back, the Marauders had been put in their place, there'd been a modicum of justice there, and finally a Professor had recognized him for his own talent. Even the other Slytherins were beginning to forget about the incident with him losing the fifty points. Perhaps, though he dared not think such thoughts fully, for fear of a sadistic fate suddenly reversing things for him out of spite, things might be showing signs finally of some improvement. It remained to be seen, clearly. But still, if nothing more, he had at least the first meeting – the first <em>real<em> meeting that was – of Dueling Club to look forward to that evening.

He'd eaten dinner relatively quickly. For once there was the prospect of something reasonably decent to look forward to afterwards. His dorm mates had expressed sentiments somewhere between keen interest and thinly veiled jealousy at Severus being selected for the position, but after he'd promised them they could come to next week's meeting, and he'd use what influence he had to ensure they made the team, they seemed to accept it well enough.

And so, actually having eaten a decent amount of food, Severus muttered whatever goodbyes to the other Slytherins and made his way towards the dueling arena. He was evidently the last party to arrive, as Gyllenkrok, Hermione, and the two other House captains were already there.

For Ravenclaw, a rather tall and slender blonde haired girl had been selected, a rather bored expression on her face, as she seemed to be absentmindedly muttering to herself some mnemonic or other to remember the stars and constellations that they'd gone over in Astronomy that day.

The Hufflepuff was a shorter, brown haired boy, who was looking over the room anxiously, as if not particularly wanting to be there. As the other House captains would learn later, he was only there because no one from Hufflepuff had volunteered, and Gyllenkrok had grown impatient and finally selected him as he had had slightly better performance than the others.

Hermione for her part had been holding a conversation with Gyllenkrok over some matter or another, but gave Severus a curt nod as he approached, which he rather awkwardly returned – he still wasn't entirely certain what to think of her. And in whatever case, even if on some levels he was expected to maintain contact with her for his … duties; it wouldn't do to look _overly_ friendly. Appearance was still key to everything.

"So, we're all here. Might as well begin then." Gyllenkrok stated, walking to the front of your room. "You are here, Miss Granger, Mr. Lockwood, Miss Faraday, and Mr. Snape representing the four ancient and noble Houses of Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Or something of the sort…" he muttered, a slight hint of perhaps derision in his tone. "In any case, Dumbledore asked me, in addition to my teaching duties, to oversee the formation of this club. Your duties in turn, as the best and brightest of eligible candidates from your respective Houses, is in turn to recruit and oversee other students. Much like Quidditch, there will be a number of formal duels between the Houses this year, the first of which will be November 1st. Here is a list of all scheduled duels." With a flick of his wand, Gyllenkrok shot a scroll at each of the four of them, listing when and between what Houses duels will be held. Giving the four of them a minute to look them over, he continued. "As you can see, at the end of the year, there will be a final duel. Unlike in Quidditch, this will involve all four Houses, regardless of their earlier proficiency or … _lack thereof_." Hermione couldn't help but notice that Gyllenkrok's eyes fixated rather sharply on Lockwood as he annunciated the last bit. "Your teams' performance in this and other duels will influence your Houses' respective House Points, and could very well mean the difference between victory and defeat between the four Houses." He paused a moment, stroking his rather thin beard before continuing.

"Now, to the rules of the duels themselves. These events will consist of two types – individual duels; much like we held in class before, where one person of one House duels another of a House opposing. We also will have team duels in which five individuals from each House, necessarily consisting of the team captain as one member, will duel one another. The rules of each individual duel, whether they for example are restricted to a certain set of spells, voiced or unvoiced, with or without wands, will vary, and you will _not_ be informed ahead of time – so you'd do well to practice for all such contingencies. Speaking of wands…" Gyllenkrok nodded slightly, "A special set of wands have been produced for the duels themselves."

Reaching into his cloak, Gyllenkrok pulled out four wands of identical weight and make, the only difference being the crest of one of the four Houses charmed onto each of them. He handed each captain the wand of their respective House and gave them a moment to look them over.

"They're specially made." He explained, "Charmed in such a way that only certain spells can be used. Not much use in teaching you lot if you're going to kill yourselves off in practice after all. That and in all ways they're identical, so it's more fair between the Houses."

"But sir!" Hermione interjected. "Every witch or wizard has a wand that's best suited to them. Surely you can't expect us to perform as well with a wand not matched to us. That goes against anything I've ever read on wandlore, and I don't possibly see how you expect…"

"A most astute observation," Gyllenkrok nodded solemnly, "And I agree with you. If I'd have had my way, I'd let you use your real wands; but Dumbledore was adamant – for safety reasons – that these special wands had to be used. Certainly not the way I'd have liked it, but my hands are tied. Still, I think, particularly for the spells you'll be using, those with natural talent will rise to the top."

Something about Gyllenkrok's answer put Hermione very off. She'd been in Dueling Clubs before twice. Both times started with Dumbledore's approval. Both times not involving any such wands. At least in the future, the man seemed to have no problems with students using their own wands in duels, as long as they stuck to the prescribed rules otherwise. It seemed … a stretch to imagine he'd insist otherwise now. But, of course, she had no real means of expressing her suspicions. Certainly not to Gyllenkrok himself. Maybe… in the future… the next time she saw Dumbledore alone, she might ask him casually about it, bring the subject of the Dueling Club and the wands up, ask idly if it'd truly had been his idea, and then assess it from there. If Dumbledore really had suggested such a thing, then she was just being paranoid; but for now, she couldn't shake the vague feeling that something rather odd was afoot.

"Now, returning to the logistics of things – why I've called you here. You each have two weeks to recruit students from your House for each of your teams. You can recruit any number you like, but each match will only involve five participants, with allowances for stand-ins in case of injuries or other mishaps. After the two week recruitment period has elapsed, teams may reserve time slots in the duel arena for practices. Such reservations must normally be made at least forty-eight hours in advance. Participants in Dueling Club may be from any year, but naturally those of upper years tend to have more proficiency I should imagine, so bear that in mind. With that, unless there are any further inquiries, I shall let you go for the evening. In one case or another, I shall see the four of you next week at this same time, in a meeting open to all interested parties."

Gyllenkrok paused a moment, the five there looking to each other silently. "Very well," he said, after a moment or so of no questions. "I'm sure the four of you have a lot to do this evening. I won't keep you."

For Severus, the matter of recruiting team members was quite easy. His four dorm mates had practically begged him at dinner to let them join the team; that was five right there, and beyond that, any other interested parties would only make things better. Something he didn't imagine it to be altogether difficult to interest other Slytherins in Dueling Club – even this watered down version that clearly had Dumbledore's hand all over it.

He was about to into the corridor leading to the Slytherin dormitories, ready to finish up what homework remained for the evening when he felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning around, he realized that Hermione had followed him out of class. Merlin she was… insufferable.

"What is it…?" he questioned tonelessly, still a bit wary of looking all too friendly towards her in public.

"We need to talk." Hermione said in a quiet, yet urgent voice. "Same place as before. I'll be there first. Meet me in fifteen minutes." And with that, before even giving him a chance to respond, she marched off. She had a lot on her mind, a theory that had rapidly been forming ever since the meeting at Dueling Club had started. And, if she was right about it, she might well need Snape as an ally. Somewhat difficult, considering the circumstances, but she'd thought up something of a plan.

* * *

><p>For a while, Severus debated whether or not to follow her. If he was seen with her, it could make things … uncomfortable. And he wasn't still certain of her intentions in any case. That said, he supposed the way he'd set the Room of Requirement up, it would be relatively safe; and he did have to admit to a certain strained curiosity for what it might be that she'd have to say. So finally, his curiosity overcoming his unease, he too made his way up to the Room of Requirement.<p>

When he arrived, Hermione of course was already there, evidently reading a book. "Hello," she'd offered in a rather polite tone, though still not putting it down. "Just give me a second to finish this paragraph or so."

Severus could only frown, sitting down in the seat opposite her. Such behavior was rather … odd; at least of the image he'd constructed of her. She was a Gryffindor. Aside from Lily, they didn't think the most of academics; they certainly wouldn't go out of their way to read something outside of books for class. That and, if she really had something so important to say to him, why was she wasting her time reading. Unless, he supposed, she was a bit nervous, and reading provided for her the same sort of tranquility it did for him. An odd thought, considering her House, but he supposed it might follow. She wasn't… he supposed… in strictest speaking… _exactly_ the "typical Gryffindor"… maybe…

"What are you reading…?" He offered, a bit of an awkward attempt at at least starting something of a conversation.

A rather large grin formed on Hermione's face as she put the book down. Almost as if she'd been planning all along on him asking just that. "The Tale of the Heike" she informed him. "One of my favorite books from when I was a child. Still try to read it again from time to time. You ever heard of it?"

"I … can't say that I have, no…" Severus replied, a bit drily, not exactly seeing why she was spending so much time on something so mundane instead of actually getting to the reason she'd brought him here.

"Yeah, I suppose you wouldn't have…" Hermione frowned slightly. "It's a muggle book of course. I didn't even know I was a witch until my eleventh birthday, so of course all the books I'd read from then were muggle ones…"

Snape nodded slightly, a bit uncomfortable at even the mention of muggles, and really wishing she would just get to whatever point she would make.

"It's from ancient Japan – well, Heian period precisely. Well before the International Statue of Wizarding Secrecy, which didn't go into effect until 1682 of course. Which makes it rather interesting, as I'm pretty sure at least one of the characters described within is a wizard. A lot of fighting and scheming and betrayal. I get the feeling you might actually like it."

"Doubtful…" was all Snape could reply in something that was beginning to approach an acerbic tone.

"Anyhow," Hermione continued completely undeterred, "It's based on a rather interesting period in Japanese history, where two different clans were each trying to put their own candidate forward as Emperor. And, it ended up coming to all out war. Now, obviously for the two main families of the two clans, it was easy enough to pick a side; they had their whole futures invested in the outcome of it after all. For the others though, that's where things get … interesting. Two sides fighting each other, they have no strong connection to either. If you pick the winning side, the rewards are great, a high position in the new government, you're rich, powerful for life. Pick the wrong side though, and it's exile or worse…" Hermione paused dramatically, making a motion with her hand across her throat. "And you'd be expected to do it yourself usually."

"Well, there just happened to be two characters within the book who I always found to be the most intelligent. Not main characters by any means, but they made it out better than most. That is, they found a way to cheat the system so to speak. Two cousins in the book, they made a deal with each other; each of them join opposite sides in the war, and they made a deal that whatever one ended up on the winning side would help get a pardon for the other. So… whatever side lost, they still both won. Rather smart way of doing things if you ask me…" Hermione nodded a bit proudly, giving Severus a second to go over what she'd just said.

"And you know, it got me thinking. History repeats itself… That stuff in the Heike, it kind of reminds me of what's going on in the world here and now."

Snape frowned and was about to object to any analogy between the muggle world and his own, but Hermione continued talking.

"Think about it. We have two factions fighting for power right now. The Ministry and the Death Eaters. Whatever one ends up winning in the end, their enemies are going to end up in Azkaban or … worse…" she looked down. "And obviously Ministry employees are apt to support the Ministry – it's their whole livelihood, and it's given them a position of power in the world; and on the other hand, well, the Death Eaters promise a lot to the wealthier, pureblooded families, so a lot of them, I'm pretty certain, support the Dark Lord. That leaves… the rest of us. We all have to choose the side we think has the best chance of victory and serving our interests in the long run. Which, either way entails a degree of risk. I remember you told me the other day that you don't really care about the Death Eaters' ideology of blood purity; you just think it's the faction with the best chance of victory, and thus is the best means of keeping yourself and Lily safe, right?"

"I'm not incriminating myself…" Severus scowled, getting up to leave. Did she take him for an absolute idiot? It was an interesting enough ploy he supposed; rather creatively done, but he wasn't about to forget who she was, what her affiliations were.

"And I don't want you to…" Hermione shook her head. "Honestly, I don't care. We're all just doing what we can to survive. That's my point. If anything, for what I'm saying, I think it'd work better if you were with the Death Eaters, but of course I recognize how you're far wiser than to say anything so stupid to a perfect stranger. But, if you'd give me a minute, I have a confession of my own to make, about my own involvement… with Dumbledore."

Severus narrowed his eyes. That was certainly an … odd turn of things. Well, if anything, it piqued his curiosity enough that he begrudgingly sat right back down.

"I admit, you're probably absolutely right in some of your assumptions about me." Hermione began, "I do in fact work for Dumbledore. In fact, I founded an underground organization for him known as Dumbledore's Army." Well, it wasn't a lie, strictly speaking. The implications were a bit different, and past tense was a bit off, but that was an entirely other matter. "But, the thing is, I'm not really a Ministry supporter. Not in the strongest sense. There's a lot of things they do that I don't like. They serve my interests a bit better than the Death Eaters would on my own though, and it's not likely I could have even joined the latter if I wanted to, being muggleborn. So I'm just doing the best I can to survive. I don't see you as the enemy though. Our fight is really just with Voldemort – or more aptly, Dumbledore's or the Minister's is with Voldemort – and those like you and me, well, we're just trying to survive the best we can. We're not really that different, if you think about it that way, and I think, since we both realize this, that we could both help each other."

"How exactly, do you propose…?" Severus asked a bit tersely, admittedly interested, but still rather uneasy about all of this.

"Well, like the cousins in the Heike, we'll play both sides. If the Death Eaters win, you keep me safe like you're already doing for Lily; in turn, if the Ministry wins, I'll use my influence with Dumbledore to convince him to give you a full pardon, saying you were a spy for us all along or something. In the mean time… the way I see it, there's only so many spots high up in the Death Eaters or Ministry to go around. And… I'd rather see you high up in the former than someone less… sympathetic to my interests… if you'd be willing to work that way. On the other hand, I'd really appreciate anything you could do to help me rise through the levels in turn…"

It… was an interesting thought, Severus had to admit, but deeply suspcious

"Oh, don't look at me like that. Do you really think _Slytherins_ are really the only ones conscious of their own interests?" interjected, in an almost playful tone.

"And how exactly am I supposed to trust you on this…?"

"Good point." Hermione nodded. "Well, I certainly couldn't reasonably expect you to right away without any evidence. That'd be rather foolish of you, certainly. The idea is, like I said, I'd imagine there's only so many good seats to go around on your side. If… there's ever an instance where you'd like… a rival to your advancement… taken out… Captured, put in Azkaban, that sort of thing. Well, as far as I can see, that'd be in both of our interests, wouldn't it? A Death Eater put away, and a chance for promotion so to speak on my end, and of course, a rival eliminated on yours. If the Dark Lord really is immortal like you said, locking away a few of the less desirable of his members couldn't prevent his ultimate victory, so there's no loss to your interests there. And… of course, whatever side wins, as long as you did your part… I'll tell _Lily_ that all along you were just trying to protect her…"

"Tell you what, no need to decide now." Hermione said, giving Snape a moment or two to think it over. "It's a big decision, and while I think you'll find it's in your interests at least as much as mine, it's best you make an informed decision I think. But, my offer remains open. If there's ever someone, one of the Death Eaters I mean, who, for whatever reason, you feel it would be in your interests to have… removed, let me know. We can talk safely here." She gave him a rather reassuring smile as she waited for his response.

Severus frowned in thought. As far as he could see, the logic actually followed soundly enough. It made sense, their interests actually did align on this point, if they really were both able to be so Machiavellian about things. It was a bit difficult to believe from a Gryffindor, but, as he'd already come to establish, she was anything but a typical one. He still wasn't anywhere near stupid enough to confirm his status as a Death Eater to her – even though she'd outright admitted to being a spy for Dumbledore to him, though perhaps, if she was to be believed, not necessarily his enemy individually; but she hadn't even asked that of him. And… if she really would tell Lily afterwards, whichever side won… that could mean a lot… As far as he could see, as long as he was intelligent about things, he had everything to gain and little to lose through this.

"Alright…" Snape finally replied. "I don't have anything like that now, but… if it were to come up… I think… perhaps we could work something out…"


End file.
